Hot Fuzz
by MalKontent
Summary: Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde are the hardest-working mammals in all of the ZPD precincts, and it's been noticed. The pair are forced to take a break, reassigned to a countryside town where there hasn't been a serious crime reported in over twenty years. Who knows how they'll deal with this change in pace, and is there more to the sleepy town than it seems? - Cover by Littleivy25
1. The Beginning

_I seem to remember seeing a request somewhere for a mash-up of Zootopia and Hot Fuzz. I've been flexing my writing muscles for the last few days and I reckon I can tackle this. I watched both movies today just to make sure I had as much information as I could and had a rough overview of plotlines. Some things I'll refer to pretty directly, others I'll have to change in order to make the worlds fit. Hope you enjoy!_

 _EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

"Wilde, Hopps; my office."

Judith Eileen Hopps, first rabbit officer of the Zootopia Police Department, perked her grey ears up at the sound of her chief's deep voice rumble through the air. Her partner, Nicholas Piberius Wilde, also perked up slightly at the summons. The pair shared a questioning glance before hopping down from their oversized chairs and making their way across the bullpen, dodging the occasional fellow officer. With colleagues over twice and sometimes three times their mass moving around they were used to it.

Nick opened the door for Judy, allowing her to enter the dim office that belonged to Chief Bogo. The ornery cape buffalo sat at his desk already, hooves steepled in front of his muzzle. Nick shut the door softly and the pair hopped up with as much dignity as they could into more oversized seats.

The room was silent for a few moments as Bogo observed the duo. Hopps was alert, ears at full-sail and pointed directly at him, while Wilde was slouching back in feigned casualness. His face betrayed nothing, but the tip of his tail flicked with a steady tempo that spoke volumes about the amount of attention he was paying. Nothing would slip him by while he was in this room. _Good._

"Officer Judy Hopps," Bogo began, flipping open a manilla-coloured folder on the desk in front of him with deliberate slowness. He adjusted the small golden-framed eyeglasses he wore and started reading aloud. "Graduated Valedictorian of her class with the Zootopia Police Academy. Surpassed all of her peers in spite of concerns about her being a rabbit. Showed a distinct aptitude in adaptivity to our multi-climate environs here in Zootopia Central and supplemented her learning with extra-curricular activities that included, amongst other things, two of the three paw-to-paw combat styles offered in the Academy, offensive driving, urban pacification and," he said, pausing to raise his gaze and look at the blushing yet proud female officer over the frames of his spectacles, "managed to find time to become Notary of the Academy's Mammal Inclusion Program. All in all, one of our best graduates and despite a bumpy start, one of our best officers."

Bogo shifted his eyes once more, now giving Nick his full attention as he flipped Judy's folder closed and retrieved another. "Officer Nick Wilde, graduated Valedictorian of his class with the ZPA. Surpassed all of his peers in spite of concerns about him being a fox with a rap sheet of minor offences as long as his tail and a history of 'hustling the streets'. Showed exceptional aptitude in the Tundra-Town and Savannah Central environs, even beyond that of Officer Hopps, and supplemented his learning with additional classes in marksmanship, non-violent pacification and hostage negotiation. The only blemish to an otherwise perfect record is a single report advising your tutors had a suspicion that you were responsible for some vandalism, specifically that you had bleached-and-dyed the rest of your classmates' PT gear a particularly vulgar shade of green. The reason for the suspicions being levelled solely at you, Wilde, is because you didn't suffer the same attention."

Bogo closed the folder and removed his glasses, fixing Nick with a look that made it clear that he was unamused by what he had just read. Nick had the good graces to offer a nervous and fleeting smile as his only reaction.

"I have called you in today for a few reasons." Bogo said, leaning back slightly. You are by most accounts two of the most gifted students to have ever graduated from the Police Academy. You are both dedicated, and even discounting the fact you are partners, your records are almost identical for numbers of arrests, cases solved and commendations. The two of you have been injured in the line of duty on several occasions, broken bones and such; Wilde is the only one to have suffered malicious injury when he was stabbed in the paw last year by, of all things, someone dressed as the Hogfather at Christmas. I would like to congratulate you both. You've done good work here; very good work."

"Thank you, Chief" the smaller mammals replied, almost perfectly in unison. Bogo leaned forward again, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his snout to help relieve the headache he was about to get.

"That is why," he said, "you are being transferred."

The silence was deafening. Judy's ear-tips wilted slightly as her eyes went wide, her mouth shrinking from a gentle smile to an expression of confusion. Wilde remained slouched, but the fur of his tail bristled and the twitch ceased. Bogo remained impassive as Wilde shuffled forward, rolling his shoulders as if he was working up to a fight and cocking his head at a slight angle.

"Could you repeat that, Chief? Just the last couple of words there; darnedest thing, I could have sworn you said we're being transferred." Nick said, his voice low but carefully neutral. Bogo would have felt calmer being on the bomb squad again.

"I did indeed say that, Officer Wilde. You and Officer Hopps are being transferred to another location. Before you become unreasonable," he said, holding a hoof out to delay the outburst about to come from the doe-rabbit whose eyes had begun to water and nose had begun to twitch. "I would like to point out that this is not a permanent assignment, nor is it because we are unhappy with you. Do you realise that in the two years and seven months since Wilde became an officer, the two of you have yet to take a sick-day that wasn't mandatory following an injury, and you both never take holiday? The two of you are here every working day unless there is something physically stopping you, and even then I happen to know that you visit each other to discuss the details of cases. The two of you are the most dedicated officers I have ever had working under me. You have less days off per year than I do. That is why I am reassigning you to another precinct for a while; you're overworking yourselves."

Bogo took stock of the situation. Wilde's pupils moved rapidly, searching his face for any tells or indications of untruths while the cogs could almost be seen and heard ticking away under the rust-red fur of his forehead as he considered what had been said. Hopps' tears refused to fall, although her nose still twitched and her ears had fallen limp behind her head. The rabbit too was thinking, mulling over the facts as presented and most assuredly reaching the conclusion that Bogo had told them the truth.

The buffalo huffed a breath out, removing his glasses and setting them down gently on the personnel files in front of him. He allowed the pair to process for a few moments more. The sounds of his precinct were muffled, distant through the walls and door of his office and gave a momentary reprieve from the situation. It was lively out there today, more-so than usual at any rate.

Judy finally met his gaze and almost whispered her question; the inevitable one he had known was coming and he had even asked himself. "Why can't we just stay here, chief? We could take time off if you want, reduce our hours?"

"I'm sorry, Hopps. This came from above; the two of you are raising concerns. The press have noticed you are barely away from work and there have been rumours we're making you work harder than anyone else because of your species. Staff Psychologists have even come down claiming that you're pushing yourselves hard because _you_ think you need to work harder than any other mammal here in order to get the same recognition. We've had concerns about your social lives raised by fellow officers who've noticed you're never taking time for anything else, and quite frankly I agree. When was the last time you did something completely unrelated to the ZPD?" Bogo said. He knew the answer before either could even deny it; even when they ended their shifts, they'd usually spend some time together at the bar or their respective apartments and discuss cases and leads. "The only concession we can make is that you will still be functioning officers, you would just be in a much quieter location with a significantly decreased caseload. At this point if we gave you time off and enforced it, we wouldn't see either of you for a couple of months, so this way you get to unwind a little, still get paid and use some of the banked holiday time by running four-day weeks; maybe even three-day weeks."

"Where are we being sent to?" Nick asked. Bogo cracked a small smile as Hopps sent a death-glare at the fox that looked as though it wouldn't have been out of place on an angry lion.

"You're not just going to accept this are you?" Judy hissed, still glaring. If looks could cause injury, Wilde's fur would burn off if this went on any longer.

"Of course not, Carrots. I just want to know."

Bogo cleared his throat, gaining their attention back before giving his answer. "You are being assigned to a rural precinct. Bunnyburrow is not an option given that there is a slim potential for favour being shown to the local denizens as you are from there, Hopps; we both know that you wouldn't do it, but it's still something we had to factor in to the equation. You would both be living and working in the county of Bushel Fields; a slightly urbanised town square, some convenience stores and quaint surroundings. I won't lie, it's surrounded by fields and it's in the middle of nowhere. Their crime records are extremely low so you would be mainly earning your keep through community outreaches and the odd patrol more than anything else, but it would be a good change of pace for you both."

"I see," said Nick. "If you don't mind, Chief, I'd quite like to speak to the boss about this."

"You want me to get the Commissioner down here?" Bogo asked.

"Yep."

"And you, Hopps?"

The rabbit shifted, clearly uncomfortable. She nodded quickly.

Bogo clicked his intercom and asked the receptionist on duty, an antelope by the name of Lucy, to ask the Commissioner to visit his office. The trio had waited no more than a handful of minutes before the door to Bogo's office opened and all three of them stood as Commissioner Timothy Allard entered. Allard, a silver-furred wolf in his fifties, was resplendent in his dress uniform trimmed with medals and brocade. He took Bogo's chair, the buffalo stepping aside, and gestured for Nick and Judy to settle again.

"Good to see you both. I take it you're not happy with this decision." Allard said. "Believe me, it was not a decision made lightly. Truth be told, the two of you have just been making us look bad. No time off, concerns being raised inside and out of the ZPD? I nearly just insisted on you being made to take three months off solid but the shrinks convinced me you'd drive yourselves, and me, nuts if I did. So, here we are. It's not negotiable; you're going to Bushel Fields for a couple of months to get R&R and that's that."

Nick and Judy boggled at the declaration. Nick, for his part, had wanted to discuss the matter, to see if an accord could be reached or a compromise negotiated but Allard had ridden rough-shod over that possibility. Judy was on the verge of tears again and the sight of it caused a lump to raise in his throat that choked off the growl that was building before it even started. Nick smirked. "Well, sir, there's one thing you haven't considered." he said, smugly.

"Oh?" Allard replied, his head cocking at an odd angle and his ears twitching slightly.

"Yep." Nick said, standing with purpose and striding to the door. "What the rest of the team think of all this!"

Nick pulled the door open sharply and his face fell. A paper banner with letters as tall as Judy herself had been stretched across the bullpen's far wall, spelling out 'Good luck' in glitter and saccharine sweetness. Their fellow officers, their friends, had a cake laid out on Bogo's podium for them and a small stack of wrapped gifts. A small cheer went up from the assembled officers and Nick realised his and Judy's fates were sealed.

They were going to Bushel Fields.


	2. The Journey

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Following the impromptu surprise leaving party that Judy and Nick had managed to smile and fumble through they had been shepherded to their locker rooms and sent home for the day to pack and get ready. The pair met outside of the ZPD precinct house in their emergency casual clothes; Nick's almost-forgotten slacks, a short-sleeved button-down made of silk and a colour so in-your-face that attention was diverted from the mammal wearing it simply to the shirt itself. Had he been able to drum up the care required, he would have added his precisely-loosened tie to add that final touch to the outfit but as it was, he hadn't been able to and had settled for stuffing the long strip of material into a shoulder-bag that held the rest of his kit. Judy was clearly depressed, wearing a pair of time-worn jeans and a pink plaid shirt that he recognised from their first case together.

Nick reached out a paw towards her shoulder but stopped a few centimetres from making contact. Nothing about this situation was right, but here they were; forced out by the best of intentions and specifically ordered to calm their lives down for a while. Nick let his paw drop back to his side and sighed gently. He let a small smile cross his lips, one more of resignation and acceptance than happiness and gave a half-hearted 'ha' of amusement. Judy looked at him, face and ears drooping in sadness.

"I suppose we can look at it this way, Carrots," Nick said. "We can at least eat healthier. No more microwaved rubbish when we can just pop along the street and pick our own vegetables, right?"

"I guess." Judy said, looking back down at her toes and huffing before setting off towards her apartment. "I'm gonna go pack, Nick. Meet you at the train station later."

Nick's small smile fell and he swore he heard his heart crack like cheap glass inside his chest. He opened his muzzle to call after her, thought better of it and sloped off towards his own apartment.

A swift walk and a couple of flights of stairs and Nick reached his front door, unlocking it and entering the apartment without bothering to shut the door behind him. He wasn't going to be in here long, after all. He grabbed a suitcase from deep under his bed and brushed a cobweb from it. He hadn't planned on using this ever again, but here he was. Over the course of the next twenty minutes he folded his uniforms and laid them gently inside the case then padded the space with essentials and a few pieces of hard-wearing casual clothes. A couple of pairs of jeans, a few shirts suited to a more honest and mature fox than the lurid ones of the years prior and he was done. He swiftly changed his shirt, sealed the case and left. He locked the door behind him, dropped his keys into the right pocket of his pants and took off at a leisurely stroll to the train station. There would be a few hours still before Judy was scheduled to meet him there but he thought a spot of mammal-watching would help him unwind.

The clocks inside the station changed in unison, the hands upon their round faces pointing a smart ninety degrees at twelve and three. Nick was reclined on a bench, elbow of his left arm up on the backrest and his sunglasses covering his eyes as he scanned the crowds and made observations.

 _Hippo, female, mid-thirties. Shopping bags, hand-bag, fashionable shades. Possible mark for a pickpocket or bag-snatcher, not likely to fall for a charity case. Wolf-pack of four, males, teenagers. Trendy clothes, laughing together, couple of skateboards but not all of them. Friends out for a day in the city, too caught up in each other to be hustled without one of them catching on and it ending badly. Rabbit, female, Judy._ Nick realised he was seeing his partner before him, looking around as she sought him out. She had a case on wheels, the handle gripped in her right paw and a potted plant with a stalk as long as she was tall cradled by her left arm.

"Hey Jude!" Nick crooned, pushing himself up off of the bench and tugging his own case from where it rested beside him. He walked up to her and set his case down.

"I really wish you'd stop singing that at me in public." she said, scrunching her nose at him in a good-natured and poor attempt at telling him off.

"Aw, don't make it bad!" Nick said, grinning from ear to ear as she groaned. "Don't carry the world upon your shoulders."

"I swear, Nick; one, those aren't even the right words for that verse and two, I will pray to any God I have to to make sure you end up in Bunny Hell if you don't shut up."

Nick's grin grew wider, lips parting to reveal sharp pearly teeth. "Nah, nah-nah, nah-nah-nah-n-Augh hey, what was that for?"

Judy rubbed the knuckles of her right paw. She'd whacked him in the stomach and the surprise finally got him to stop singing. "You know fine well, Nick. Come on, our train is due on platform seven."

The duo crossed to the platform and waited a few minutes for their transport to arrive, passing the time in comfortable silence. When the train pulled in the pair boarded and stowed their bags and the house plant in one of the racks made for animals of their size before heading down to some seats.

"How far away is this place, anyway?" Nick asked when the train started to pull out of the station. Judy looked up at him and thought for a moment before replying.

"Well, Bunnyburrow is about three hours away. I've heard of Bushel Fields before but it's pretty far from there. About five hours from Zootopia but headed north-north-east instead of just east, I think."

"Fair enough, Carrots." Nick said, resting his muzzle upon his paw and gazing out of the window as scenery began to blur past. "Guess we're in for a long haul."

* * *

It turned out that Bushel Fields' train stop was not actually in Bushel Fields. The pair got off the train with their cases and plant after four-and-three-quarter hours but had to call a cab to take them the rest of the way to the town proper. The cab had taken thirty minutes from their phonecall to reach them and Nick discovered the closer they got to their eventual destination, the less signal his phone got. Some fifteen minutes before the journey ended, the signal faded away entirely.

The fox and the rabbit got out of the cab in front of an old brick-and-mortar building that was artfully covered with vines and bordered by flowerbeds. It was thankfully sized for them, as was most of the town it appeared and they slowly walked across the threshold and into the foyer. Classic dark wood furniture met them, as well as a comfortably dozing otter of later years in one of the armchairs. Judy and Nick both looked at the sleeping mammal with apprehension before approaching the check-in desk, a similarly-aged female otter wearing the sort of frumpy, flower-covered dress that seemed to be present in every sixty-plus woman's wardrobe.

"Hi, uh..." Nick began. _Smooth, Wilde_ he admonished himself. "I'd like to check in. Please."

"Check in? But you've always been here." the female otter said, too engrossed in what appeared to be a crossword puzzle.

Nick's eyes widened in something approaching fear. "Excuse me?"

The female otter looked up and gave a small 'oh' of surprise. "I'm terribly sorry; I thought you were my husband for a moment there. Would you be one of our new police officers? Fascists."

Nick's mouth fell open and Judy's ears came to full attention. The small grey bunny hopped up on her tip-toes to fix her gaze on the otter and she growled out an "I beg your pardon?" between clenched teeth.

"Seven across!" the otter replied cheerily. "Enforcers of an oppressive regime or government, 8 letters, F-A-blank-T-S."

The wind left the sails of the good ship Hopps and Judy almost visibly deflated. Nick managed to pull himself together enough to smile. "Ah," he said. "I got it. Bitch."

It was the otter's turn to lock on to him with a steely glare. "Excuse me?"

"Twelve down." Nick said, a friendly smile that Judy recognised as an artifice to defuse a potential situation than of any actual warmth. "Female _Canis Lupus_ , also a term of offence. Five letters."

"Oh, so it is." the otter replied, following a quick glance at the puzzle. "Bless your heart!"

* * *

Nick and Judy had their room keys and shuffled along the corridor to their respective doors. "I can't believe that just happened." Judy whispered as she slid her key into the lock and twisted it. Nick just grinned toothily at her, his eyes half-closed with smugness as he put his own key in his door.

"What can I say, Carrots? I'm good at puzzles."

Judy rolled her eyes and entered her room, clicking it closed behind her. Nick entered his own room and dropped his case at the foot of the bed. He looked around the pleasant, if fairly spartan, lodgings and sat on the mattress heavily. It was firm and the sheets were tightly pressed with no creases visible. A phone sat on a small bedside table, a little writing desk with chair in the opposite corner and a painting of a pleasant bouquet of flowers hung above his pillows. He'd slept in worse places, that was for certain. At least Judy was here too.

Nick sighed and laid back on the bed, stretching his arms above his head and letting them hang over the opposite edge from his tail and legs. Yep, things could definitely be worse.

From beyond the wall, Nick heard a muffled sobbing from Judy's room.

 _Scratch that_ , he thought, _it_ is _worse. Time to save the day._

Nick hoisted himself up and rapped a paw against the wall separating them. "Judy?" he said. "D'you want to talk somewhere?"

The sniffling slowly stopped and he heard a soft reply of 'yeah'. Nick picked up his case, popping it open and taking out a light grey jacket. He shrugged it on and left the room, locking the door behind him and waited a couple of minutes for his partner to join him in the corridor once again.

Two minutes later, Judy's door opened and while he could tell she'd shed a few tears, Nick could see she had calmed a little. "Where were you thinking? We don't know anywhere." she said, looking at him with her violet eyes and a small, fragile smile.

Nick made a show of thinking, tapping a paw against his chin. "I don't know... Pub?"

* * *

The Bushel Field Public House was a similarly-aged and quaint little building with a thatched roof and a small sign bolted to it proclaiming two things; firstly, the pub was called 'The Village Inn', and secondly that it had been built over two hundred years ago by the same family that owned it today. Nick and Judy both cast their eyes over the picture-perfect little building, the soft warm glow of light inside adding to the idyllic floral borders and hanging baskets to give a feeling of welcome. The noise gave the impression that, despite the hour, the pub must have been full to bursting. A shared look and a shrug from Nick later, they entered.

The pair crossed through the crowds to the bar, taking in the sights as they went. The building was crammed, almost every seat occupied by a mammal. There were very few predators in sight, but that wasn't unheard of for a rural town. Bunnyburrow itself had the Gray family and one or two city-predators who had moved out to the countryside for a more relaxing and peaceful time. Judy and Nick reached the bar and leaned against it, seeking out any familiar-looking drinks across the ranks of bottles behind the counter-top and on the helpfully labelled pump handles clustered every few metres. A portly badger with a friendly face came up to them from the other side of the bar and stuck a paw out in greeting.

"Welcome to the Village Inn! I suppose you two must be our new police officers, yes?" the badger said, a smile breaking out as Nick took the offered paw and shook it out of politeness. Judy took her turn as the badger continued. "My name's Frank; me and the wife own this little watering hole. It's not every day we get people moving in. Welcome to Bushel Fields. What can I get you both?"

Nick smiled. _It might not actually be too bad here,_ he thought, casting an eye about the pumps again before giving in. "A Pint of whatever lager you recommend please, Frank, and I'll pay for whatever the lady has."

Frank turned his gaze to Judy. "I, erm, I'm not sure. What wines do you have, please?" she asked.

"Mary," Frank said, quite loudly. He turned to another badger, probably his wife, a little further down the counter. "What wines do we have?"

"Well, we've got red... or... white." came the reply. Nick stifled a laugh before it began and Judy's cheeks flushed.

"Erm... Carrot juice, please?"

The duo paid for their drinks and took tentative sips. Nick grinned at Judy and she muttered a quick 'shut up' under her breath at what had just taken place. "Oh come on, Carrots. That was pretty funny." Nick said.

"That was embarrassing."

"Oh fine. Look, we're going to be stuck here for a while, so we might as well-" Nick stopped abruptly as another patron stumbled into him, making him spill a small amount of his drink. Nick turned with a smile at the ready, fully intending to assure whoever had bumped him there was no harm done but stopped himself from saying it. Standing in front of him was a rather worried-looking male bunny who was maybe a few inches shorter than Judy, retainer clearly visible across his large front teeth and a half-finished pint in his paws. Nick raised an eyebrow and flicked his gaze behind the bunny, noting that a large group of other young mammals with high voices and the marks of youth were drinking and carousing. Judy, thankfully, rescued him.

"Officer Hopps, ZPD," she began, flipping out her badge as she stepped between Nick and the teenaged rabbit. "The signs behind the bar there say you have to be eighteen to drink alcohol here. When's your birthday, buck?"

"July seventeenth?" came the reply, the bunny having gained a little more sureness of himself now he was dealing with someone closer to his own height. Nick rolled his eyes; the overconfidence of youth was returning. Be it the alcohol, Judy being a rabbit or female, he could tell things were about to become awkward.

"What year?" asked Judy, narrowing her eyes a little.

"Every year." came the retort, the teenager sneering slightly.

"Get out."

Finally given a case, however unofficial and impromptu it was, Judy set upon it like a teething wolf pup with a bone. She marched from table to table, completely fearless as she checked the identification of every mammal who looked shy of their adulthood. Ten minutes later and the dull roar of a busy night had been replaced by the soft, hushed whispers that were more suited to a place of worship than a pub. Nick drained the last of his pint just as Judy perched herself on one of the now-vacated stools at the bar and finished her carrot juice in one long draught.

"Anything else for you?" came a slightly disgruntled voice, Nick looking over his shoulder to see that Frank and Mary, the badgers from earlier, were both giving himself and Judy stern looks.

"No thanks." Nick grinned pleasantly, acting oblivious. "Quite a few underage drinkers in tonight, Frank."

"Well," the badger grumbled, looking a little less wrathful now that his indiscretion had been addressed. "We know a fair few of them are a season shy of drinking age, but we've always looked at it this way; if they're in here, they're not out on the streets causing trouble. It's for the greater good of the community."

"Aye," echoed Mary, "the greater good."

Judy set her glass down on the wooden surface of the bar. "Be that as it may," she said. "The law is the law. Exceptions are a slippery slope. Come on Nick, we've got our first day tomorrow."

She slid from her stool and grabbed Nick's paw. He stood and followed behind her, waving a quick farewell at the badgers with a face that portrayed humoured resignation at being dragged away. The moment the two were out of sight Nick let his face fall back to his normal expression and walked a little faster to walk alongside his partner.

Nick heard Judy sigh as they reached the ornamental fountain at the heart of the town square. She took a small coin from her pocket and tossed it into the fountain, mumbling a wish under her breath. Nick smiled and tossed his own coin in, putting an arm around her shoulders and gently ushering her towards their hotel. "Well Judes," he said, "it's been an interesting and honestly kind of weird day. Hopefully it'll be a bit more settled tomorrow."

"Yeah," Judy said. "Maybe. I just can't believe that we weren't given more warning, you know? And we didn't even get to talk about it, they just... they just shipped us out like we were luggage. I can't believe- oh you have to be kidding me."

Nick followed Judy's disgusted gaze and saw four of the bunnies from earlier. Evidently some petty larceny had been the order of business following their drinking as three sported street signs, one a traffic cone, and the retainer-wearing one was currently relieving his full bladder against the front door of a house. Nick cleared his throat and the three thieves froze in terror at the sight of him and Judy holding their badges up, Nick's eyes glowing menacingly thanks to a nearby street lamp. The peeing rabbit turned, still going, and nearly splattered Judy's toes with his waste. Nick's shoulders slumped slightly in despair and Judy shuffled back a little to avoid the spreading puddle. _Of course, m'lady_ Nick thought to himself, stepping over the liquid with a long stride and grabbing the bunny's shirt collar. "Officer Nicholas Wilde, ZPD. You and your friends here are under arrest for suspected theft of property and making a public nuisance of yourself. We're going to have to ask you to come to the station with us." Nick's ears perked up slightly and he looked around quickly.

"What is it, Officer Wilde?" Judy asked, all business and professionalism.

Nick gave her a shy grin, his ears drooping slightly. "I have _no_ idea where it is."

Judy groaned and snagged the collars of two bunnies, setting off at a decent pace with Nick dragging his pair of inebriates with him.


	3. Introductions

_Got a bit carried away today... this is a pretty long chapter.  
_ _EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

The old wooden door with frosted glass swung open on it's hinges without a squeak to be heard. A pair of sullen teenaged buck-rabbits entered, followed closely by a slightly taller and older doe in a pink plaid shirt who was holding the pair by their collars. Behind her came another two teenage bucks, this time being held by a fox in a light grey summer jacket.

The uniformed wolf behind the front desk raised his eyes from his book and cocked an eyebrow. "What's the issue here?" he asked.

The bunny in pink let go of her charges and pulled a ZPD badge from her pocket, showing it to the wolf. "Judy Hopps, ZPD. Four juvenile delinquents arrested for theft, one with an additional charge of causing public nuisance." she said, grumpily.

"I see," replied the wolf. He eyed the six mammals in front of his desk and gestured in a broad wave of his paw to the four youngest. "You two do move fast. When do you start, again?"

"Tomorrow." Nick said cheerfully.

"I see. Are you sure you want to process them? I mean, my pen's running out of ink..."

Judy smirked, pulling a small orange plastic carrot from her back pocket and brandishing it. "Don't worry about that, Sergeant," she said as she noticed the rank-pins on his epaulettes. "I brought my own."

 _Click.  
_ " _I make two hundred dollars_ a day, _Fluff. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, since I was twelve!"_

Nick raised an eyebrow at her and she gave a nervous grin over her shoulder at him. She shrugged and said "Erm... Wrong button?"

* * *

The four youths were photographed, paw-printed and released with cautions within the hour. Their stolen items were taken by the wolf that Judy and Nick had spoken with and presumably locked into the evidence room. The pair bid the Sergeant goodnight, which he acknowledged with a small nod, and they walked back to their hotel. At least now it was close to a proper bed-time.

"So, you want to have a run in the morning?" Judy asked as they reached their bedroom doors. Nick smiled and nodded.

"Sure thing, Carrots. Might get to find our way around a little that way."

"Okay Nick. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Fluff."

Judy dressed for bed quickly and laid on top of her covers, right foot twitching absent-mindedly. _Maybe_ , she thought to herself as she closed her eyes and tried to relax, _it'll just be like home with a little more to do._

When dawn broke, Judy and Nick were already dressed and outside of the hotel. The pair stretched out, Nick's muzzle wide as he yawned with abandon. Judy rolled her eyes at the display; even after years of early mornings, Nick still was a bit of a night-owl and took forever to wake up properly without a dose of caffeine. She swatted his arm with the back of her paw and set off, jogging away at a measured pace that would get her blood pumping and warm her up for the day. Nick was a few steps behind but soon matched her pace, drawing alongside her and panting slightly until he woke up a bit more.

Their morning jog was more odd than anything else. It seemed like everyone knew they were the new police officers in town without any introductions and Judy couldn't help but feel like she was being watched everywhere they went. The oddness increased when a fox, of all mammals, ran alongside them and grinned a toothy, predatory grin at the pair,

"You've got to stop me." the fox said, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

"What?" Judy asked, confused and wary. Nick's ears were pointing directly at the intruder to their routine, and his tail was held rigid instead of bouncing behind him.

"I'm a slasher! I've got to be stopped." the fox said. Judy's eyes went wide and a growl began in Nick's throat before the fox whipped off his sunglasses and smirked at her. "Yes! I'm a slasher- of prices! The name's Simon Renner, I run the local super-mart. Come on in sometime; my discounts are criminal." With that, the fox slipped his shades back on and upped his pace, turning off down a side-street and leaving Nick and Judy feeling very out-of-place and ill at ease.

The duo ended their run at the front door to their hotel and swiftly headed inside to shower and change for the day. It would look a little odd for them to turn up in full uniform, but without any of their gear in a locker-room that may or may not exist they thought it best to play it safe.

Judy adjusted her claw-proof vest as she reached for the door-handle. She swung it open and her eyes widened in shock. The wolf sergeant from the night before was sitting at the front desk still, but his fur was matted and stuck up at odd angles. The sight made Judy a little happier. _Maybe there_ are _some good cases here after all_ , she hoped. Crossing her ears was a silly superstition, but she did it anyway and earning a raised eyebrow from Nick for the trouble.

"Morning Sergeant," she said, offering him a large friendly smile. "How'd the night shift go?"

"Dunno." the wolf said, not even glancing up from his book. "Nobody tells me nothin'."

Judy tilted her head slightly and opened her mouth to question him when Nick's paw fell onto her shoulder. The look on his face said 'forget it, it's weird' and she took the hint. Nick was about to step forward to ask the wolf where they should go when a door opened and a friendly-looking warthog fixed them with a smile. "You must be the new officers," he crowed happily, "I'm Chief Tusker; come on through and meet the team."

Judy smiled back and made her way through the doorway. "Pleased to meet you, chief." she said as she passed. Nick gave a nod and a grin before following her.

"Here we are; Bushel Fields' finest." Tusker said with obvious pride. He pointed in turn to several officers and gave a quick introduction for each. "Officers Judy Hopps and Nicholas Wilde, this here is Officer Portillo," a confused looking leopard looked up and said 'what?', "Officers Lyle and Saxon," an elderly-looking wolf who must have been close to retirement mumbled something that may have been a greeting and the not-much-younger wolf next to him just nodded, "and our ray of sunshine, Officer Doris Early."

The final officer stood, a shapely panther who made Judy's fur stand on end as she fondled Nick's tie and said "It's nice to meet you, Nicky. I'll give you a tour if you like; I've been round the station a few times..."

Nick, Judy was happy to note, had lost any hope of being the smooth-talker he usually was as he gulped and stammered a 'hello' at the unexpected and rather full-on attention. She rolled her eyes and grabbed Nick's tie from the panther and tugged it to make him follow her. "Come on, Romeo. Romance later, job now."

A swift tour of the facilities followed, allowing the newcomers to locate the evidence room, locker room and a few other areas. A much less cordial introduction occurred with the local detectives, a pair of rangy-looking tigers who were oddly identical, even down to their clothing and the way they glared at Judy and Nick as if they were beneath them. "Detective Cartwright, Detective Wainwright. We call them the Andy's because-" said Tusker, interrupted by Nick.

"Let me guess; they're both called Andrew?"

"Just so, Nicholas!" Tusker said, chuckling a little. "That's the main reason, the other is that getting them to do much of anything is about as much trouble as climbing mountains."

A spitball hit Nick in the muzzle, bouncing off of his nose. He whirled around to look at the two detectives but they were both back at work and there was no sign of a straw.

Judy felt that she had put on a brave front so far; the station was as well-equipped as it ought to have been and the chief seemed competent enough, but their colleagues and the detectives were giving off the impression of being terribly incompetent, and as just shown in some cases downright childish. Would she and Nick fit in here? Would they even manage to make it through the first week without going nuts?

Tusker led them to a final room, rapping his hoof on the wood smartly before opening the door. "Last but by no means least, this is our Neighbourhood Watch office. This is Thomas Clover, who acts as the eyes and ears for us."

The middle-aged stoat rose from his chair in front of a bank of monitors that wouldn't have looked out of place in the high security wing of Zootopia's prison. Judy goggled at the sheer number of screens and the angles displayed. _There must be cameras everywhere in the entire village!_

"Call me Tom," the stoat said, hobbling a couple of steps to his right to retrieve a cane. "Liaison for the Watch, and the chairmammal too. We like to keep an eye on things and do our part."

"You do seem... dedicated." Nick said, that charming fake smile on his face again.

The stoat puffed out his chest and stood a little straighter. "That we are, Officer Wilde. Speaking of which, there's a case I would like to have you look into."

"Really? Do tell." Nick said.

"We have been plagued as of late by a menace. A blight upon our little place in the sunshine that must be stopped. Here," Tom said as he reached behind himself and picked up a folder with a set of photographs in, then handed them to Nick and Judy to look through. "I am talking about this."

Judy and Nick eagerly flipped open the front cover to find the photographs were still images from the camera feeds, specifically from the camera overlooking the very fountain they had thrown coins into the night before. A weasel was stood on one leg in front of the fountain, a look of shock on his face as he had been photographed mid-fall. The time-stamp read thirteen-hundred. Curious, Judy turned to the next photograph. The same weasel, the same pose, but a time-stamp of fourteen-hundred. The next two pictures showed the same weasel again at fifteen-hundred and sixteen-hundred.

Tom sneered at the pictures they held and spoke as if he had something particularly foul caught in his mouth. "The Living Statue."

Nick didn't manage to stifle his groan, and neither did Judy.

"Don't you worry Tom, we'll chase him down eventually." Tusker said with the intonation of someone trying to calm a particularly grumpy child. Tusker took the file and photographs from Judy and Nick and led them back out of the room. A few steps down he tossed the file into an empty office and gave a hearty laugh. "Sorry about him; we do like to let the Neighbourhood Watch think they run the show here. It gives them something to do and keeps the work off of our paws and hooves. I'm afraid there's so little that goes on here that our days are usually quite slow."

Judy sighed heavily and felt Nick's paw rest on her shoulder. So much for that little hope.

"Now, you two. I know the environment you came her from was very stressful and you're probably going to struggle to adapt. We run a tight ship, but one with a few perks. Now, it's only eleven-thirty but seeing as it _is_ your first day, I'm going to call lunch break."

* * *

Judy and Nick found themselves sitting back in the Village Inn, this time with carrot juice in front of both of them while the entire police force of Bushel Fields sat there with pints of ale. _Drinking on duty!_ Judy fumed to herself. Nick didn't look all too impressed either.

"I have a question for you both," said Portillo. "Why exactly are you wearing your vests?"

Judy blinked. Now that she looked, she and Nick were the only ones wearing their kevlar-lined claw-proof vests. "They're... regulation? We should all be wearing them." she said.

"Ha!" came the voice of one of the Andy's. "You don't need to worry about that. No-one around here would try to gut either of you."

"Not one of the public, anyway." said the other, causing the local officers to laugh. This was going to get confusing. Judy frowned at the comment, unsure if it was a slight against her and Nick or not.

"Have you ever been stabbed, Detective?" Nick said, making Judy whip her head around. His face mirrored hers from a moment ago and it sent a shiver down her spine. Nick was never like this.

"No, I haven't." one of the Andy's replied.

"I don't recommend it," Nick said, "it's probably the most painful thing I've ever experienced."

Judy looked around the table and noticed that a few of the officers, Portillo and Doris in particular, looked almost shocked that Nick had been injured in such a way. Judy was surprised he was even talking about it. The Andy that had spoken looked a little mollified, but the other just smirked and fired another shot. "You don't need to worry about knives 'round here anyway. I know Zootopia's got that fancy gun armistice but this is the countryside; everyone and their mothers are 'packing heat' here."

Judy raised an eyebrow. In Bunnyburrow she'd grown up on a farm, in a farming community even. Yes, there were some shotguns and pellet rifles around to discourage theft or vandalism; some, like the Gray family, even used them for sports. She doubted highly that there was anywhere near the amount of guns that whichever-Wright was alluding to. She scoffed, bringing the attention of the table to herself. "Andy, I doubt that. I grew up on a farm. Who's 'everyone'?"

"Farmers." came the slightly grumbled reply.

"Who else?" she asked, pressing the issue.

"Farmers' mothers." the other Andy said with a smirk. _Looks like he's found his smarm again_.

Judy sighed. Maybe things would be better tomorrow?

* * *

Each day for the rest of the week passed in much the same manner; Judy and Nick would run on the morning, share a quick breakfast in the hotel and then head in to work. Invariably there would be some prank pulled on one or both of them which they suffered with good humour, but it was beginning to take it's toll. Nick had gone to a single meeting of the NWA with Chief Tusker and had returned with tales of a three hour meeting about the 'menace of the Living Statue'. Judy had given a seminar at the local school for a group of thirty-some kits, mostly bunnies and a few pigs with the odd predator-cub mixed in, about following dreams and getting whatever job you wanted in life if you were prepared to work for it. The reception of this seminar had been terrifying; all the children just stared, glassy-eyed, until even her smile had faded. She and Nick had gone on patrol a few times, sitting in one of two cruisers that were operated in Bushel Fields and watching the slow meanderings of the locals. They'd taken to trying to invent crimes and stories that explained why the mammals they watched were in the streets that day, nefarious plots that were exciting and would give them something to do. After four days, the crimes had died down to utter banality.

"Why's that guy wearing the big coat, d'you think?" Judy asked Nick as they sat in the cruiser. Nick had put his feet up on the dash and she had gotten sick of slapping them down about an hour before.

"No wind, so not cold. Hiding something?" he said, rubbing the side of his muzzle and stifling a yawn.

"Maybe. Then again, with this place, it might just be he's senile... How about him, Nick?"

Nick turned to where Judy was now pointing. A twenty-something wolf with a baseball cap pulled down low over his face was just starting to cross the street. Judy watched as Nick contemplated the wolf, letting the cogs turn.

"He's ugly."

Judy burst out laughing. "Nick!" she said, poking him in the side beneath his ribs. "That's awful. Maybe he doesn't want anyone seeing his face."

"Because he's ugly." Nick said, grinning at her and shuffling aside to avoid the next poke that came his way. "Seriously Carrots, this is pointless. Do you want to head to the store? I can't take this any more, just sitting here feeling life tick away second by second."

"We are on duty." Judy said snippily, trying to return a little professionalism to their discussion.

"... I'll buy you an Icy-Carrot?"

"... Deal."

The pair got out of the cruiser and Judy watched as Nick stretched a little to ease his back. He'd been close to horizontal at one point and she could only imagine that he'd caused himself an ache or two when he stood up straight again. She locked the car and set off to the larger mart a couple of streets straight ahead of where they were parked. Nick was a step or two behind her and she'd just started crossing when she heard him give a yip of surprise.

Training kicked in and she whirled around, hand dropping to the pouch on her belt that held an extending baton. That was as far as she got, however, as she registered exactly what was in front of her. Nick was laid on the pavement, having been knocked down by a rabbit that was easily as tall as her if she'd stood on Nick's shoulders. The bunny was enormous, and his ears weren't even raised.

She watched in stupefied silence as Nick stood up, brushed himself off and apologised to the huge rabbit, saying he hadn't been watching where he was going and definitely had not been expecting to meet a bunny who could have eaten _him_.

The good-natured joke fell flat as the rabbit just looked at Nick before turning on his heel and sloping off, like a statue come to life, and entered the very store the pair had been about to visit.

Judy watched the bunny the entire way. The sheer absurdity of it had her convinced some mad breeding program must have taken place. She didn't notice that Nick had joined her until he touched her shoulder and started chuckling.

"I think," he said when she snapped her eyes to him, "that either you are, as I am, extremely concerned about the rhino-bunny hybrid that just ran me down, or you are concocting a weird scenario where you team up with him to produce a litter of the most jacked rabbits in the world, purely to form your own rabbit-only precinct."

Judy's open mouth snapped shut, tight and thin-lipped. "First order of business; the fox knows too much and must be silenced."

"Judy!"

* * *

After walking the rest of the way, chuckling as they planned out Judy's hostile takeover of the ZPD using nothing but hulking rabbits, the pair entered the mart and walked the aisles together. Nick scanned some of the titles of the movies on sale, a few action movies catching his eye. Judy caught the look and knew what he was feeling; it hadn't been that long ago that they'd been living some of the outlandish scenarios those movies depicted. Car chases, stressful negotiations, the occasional need to pacify a suspect before putting the cuffs on them... the adrenaline rush of weeks ago felt like it had been years prior and Judy missed it.

As they wandered around, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, she picked out a small frozen Icy-Carrot from the freezer section and made Nick pay for it. They were just walking towards the exit when the store announcement system crackled into life and a bored female voice filled the air.

"Officer Wilde to the Manager's Office, please. Manager's office, Officer Wilde."

Judy stopped, turning to walk with him but Nick put a paw in her way.

"Come on, Carrots. Go enjoy the sunshine and the carrot. I'll deal with whatever this is."

Judy scowled a little, but nodded. She left, dropping the wrapper of her frozen treat into a small trash bin and nibbling the end of the frozen carrot-juice pop. Maybe it was... _nice_ to have days like this?

* * *

Nick entered the Manager's office, keeping his features neutral as he saw Simon Renner sitting behind a desk in a full suit. Nick glanced around, picking out the trophies and awards for things like 'best store of this-year' and 'lowest store shrinkage of that-year'. A small bank of CCTV monitors displayed the car park at the front of the store, a few others blinking as they showed a few seconds of an aisle before switching to another. Renner's desk was covered in pens, paperwork and a few untwisted paperclips that betrayed a possible habit. _Fox, male, late forties or early fifties at most. Looks like money and power but... something's off._

"You paged for me, Mr Renner?" Nick said, still keeping his face neutral. If this was work-related...

"Ah, young Nicholas Wilde. Please, sit down." Renner said, grinning that unsettling grin.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. How can I help?" Nick said. Something was _really_ off.

"Very well. I thought I'd let you know how much I appreciate our local law enforcement supporting their nearby stores; quite a few customers have been fickle little things and popped off to much more distant pastures for their wares." Renner said, chuckling darkly before leaning forward. The fox made a cut-throat gesture with his paw. "May their heads be struck from their shoulders for their disloyalty."

Nick's hackles were rising. "I see. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, Officer Wilde, not at all. Being friendly, is all."

"If there's nothing else in that case, Mr Renner, I am on duty." he said, not waiting for a reply before turning for the door.

"I just happened to observe you loitering in the frozen foods aisles with that little _morsel_ you call a partner and thought I'd chat to you, fox to fox."

Nick froze. He was glad he was looking away as his lips pulled back in a snarl. He relaxed his face again and turned back to Renner who was still grinning that infuriatingly smug grin. Nick's eyes caught movement on the monitors behind Renner's head and he gave a grin of his own. "Maybe, Mr Renner, you should spend less time watching me and more watching _him._ "

Renner turned and eyed the screens, his eyes quickly focussing on a large black SUV that had slewed to a halt in front of his store, crossing two parking bays. "Ah. Yes. George Merchant. He owns that monstrosity of a house on the outskirts. Absolute pig of a creature, figuratively and literally." Renner said, lips curling again at the sight of Merchant, an actual pig, clambering out of his vehicle and locking the door.

"I was actually talking about him." Nick said, pointing to another camera where a wolf with a cap pulled low over his muzzle was hurriedly stuffing packs of snacks and candy inside a back-pack. Renner's eyes widened and Nick took great pleasure in showing Renner his own toothy, predatory grin. "Do excuse me."

Nick turned on his heel and took off at a run, narrowly avoiding a second collision with the giant rabbit from earlier. He turned right through a set of swinging doors, left once then skidded to a halt on the faux-marble floor of the mart in the same aisle as the shoplifting wolf. Nick cleared his throat.

The wolf turned abruptly, eyes wide as they took in the sight of Nick in full uniform. Time froze for Nick as his body reacted as nature and evolution had intended; his heart beat faster, adrenaline flooded his system and his pupils narrowed to focus his vision solely on his prey. Wolves might have once hunted foxes, but the tables had turned.

The wolf's own body went through the same steps, but where Nick's said _fight_ , the wolf's said _flight_. A shared heartbeat later and the wolf took off, sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him. Nick started a fraction of a second later and kept pace. A swift dash through the aisles and the wolf was outside, flashing past Judy. By the time Nick had left the doorway, she was running right beside him.

"Shoplifter!" Nick barked out as they sprinted. The wolf was in good shape, but so were they.

The wolf turned left down an alleyway and Nick and Judy followed. They didn't know the streets and side-roads yet, so sticking together was the safest way to do things. Nick caught a glimpse of a tail disappearing down another turn to the left and followed, skidding to a halt as he saw the way ahead was blocked by a pair of overturned trash-cans. Another flash of the tail taking a turn to the right and Nick was off again, leaping the cans and yelling back for Judy to try and head the wolf off.

Judy ignored Nick turning left and carried on straight ahead at a looming wall. She stamped down, her powerful thigh muscles bunching and uncoiling to launch her over the wall with ease and into a back garden. She vaulted the fences between each neighbour's territory with an ease that Nick would have been jealous of, if he'd seen it.

She was rewarded when, at the end of the gardens, she hurdled another wall and almost landed on top of the wolf. The wolf yelped and took off running in the opposite direction, pushing his way through a group of the students that Judy had spoken to the other week. She followed, hearing Nick's claws clicking against the ground behind her. She flicked out her baton, gave a hop and a skip and threw it with as much force as she could directly at the fleeing wolf.

The baton, a set of three concentric tubes of steel a few millimetres thick, was designed mainly as a way to ward or hold off attacks. It could be used offensively, but was generally used against soft targets to aid submission; the backs of knees, inside of elbows, that sort of thing. When catapulted from a speeding bunny, every Joule of kinetic energy from those spring-loaded legs gave it a heck of an impact force. The baton flew as straight as an arrow and struck the back of the wolf's head dead centre. A high-pitched whine of pain let Judy know she'd hit her target, and this was confirmed when the wolf hit the ground muzzle-first and somersaulted once before rolling to a halt, stolen goods spilling from his backpack like the wake of a boat. Judy slowed to a halt and Nick overtook her, jogging forward to cuff the wolf. _At last,_ she thought. _Action!_

* * *

"What do you mean, he's not pressing charges?!"

Judy winced at the volume of her own shriek. She hadn't meant for it to come out that... aggressively, but for the love of Easter, this was a _criminal_ and he was being _let off with it_!

"Now, now, Officer Hopps, I understand how you feel, but you must realise that if Mr Renner does not want to press charges then we cannot go against that." Chief Tusker said. The warthog was sitting on the edge of a desk in front of her in the bullpen area of the Bushel Fields precinct. Portillo, Lyle, Saxon and Early were milling around, and Nick was sitting by her side.

"But I... we-" Judy said, struggling to find the words.

"Forget it, Hopps," Nick said. His head was hung low and he was pinching the bridge of his muzzle. "Sometimes things happen, right?"

"Indeed they do," came Simon Renner's silky voice. Quite why the fox had been allowed into the staff area of the station was a mystery, and it didn't help that he was quietly padding around the room offering snacks that were technically evidence out to the officers. "And I am a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance."

Chief Tusker waved away an offered cookie and gave Judy a paternal smile. "It's alright, Officer Hopps. I believe the matter is resolved, but could I have a private word with you and Officer Wilde in my office."

Judy and Nick followed as the warthog went into the secluded room. Judy closed the door behind her, catching a fleeting glimpse of Renner's unnerving smile as he and the shoplifter were escorted out of the building by Lyle & Saxon.

"Please sit down, Judy." Tusker said, smiling gently to put her at ease. She sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side from the warthog, next to Nick. She fidgeted a little and sighed.

"I understand that you're both frustrated. I am too, truth be told, but I want to try and help you both."

Tusker stood, taking a few steps away from the desk and collecting his thoughts. "Police work here in the countryside is a little different to that in the big city. There's a certain element of flexibility and give-and-take to what we do here. Not outright breaking the laws, you understand, but arrangements in the name of the greater good."

"Like the bar?" Nick asked.

Tusker smiled and patted Nick's shoulder. "Exactly, Nicholas. I know it rankles, believe me it gets to me some days, but it's all for the best. Some of our wards are a little more forgiving than others, ready to overlook indiscretions too. I think the last time we actually booked anyone for theft was before either of you were police officers, truth be told! Petty incidents like today are very few and far between, but when they occur we usually play a game of sorts; the thief is caught and the evidence of their wrong-doing shown. We tell them all about how they are going to jail, the bad things that will occur if they don't change their ways, and then a kind soul offers them a second chance. Every single time, that chance is accepted and grasped like a lifeline. No-one wants to go to jail, after all, and around here most of these thefts are due to boredom."

"But that means that dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of crimes are not being reported! What about repeat offenders?" Judy asked.

"I never said we got rid of the evidence or casefiles now, did I Judy? We keep an eye on anyone who we have a run-in with and so long as they keep their noses clean then all's well that ends well." Tusker said, turning to Judy and giving a wink. "If they don't, well... those casefiles become part of the arrest record and we offer the evidence as part of a series of incidents instead of a single one. It keeps balance and ensures those who squander a chance are punished exactly as much as they need to be; no more, no less."

"I still don't like it." she said.

Tusker's smile became sad. "I didn't say I liked it either, Miss Hopps. You may well come around, adapt to the situation, or like me you can disagree with it and do it anyway because the results of it speak for themselves. Besides," Tusker said, giving a chuckle to try and lighten the mood. "This assignment is only temporary. It might be that in the next few months you get to go back to the city and forget all about us strange country-folk and our weird way of doing things."

Judy gave a weak smile. Nick looked up at last and asked the question on her mind. "What about more serious issues than this?"

Tusker looked at them both in turn, his gaze hardening and giving the pair flashbacks of meetings with their own cape buffalo chief. "Anything inflexible is completely inflexible, and rightly so."

The seriousness was gone as soon as it arrived. "When you too pulled up outside with the pup in tow, I was about to radio you. There's a spot of trouble up at Elroy farm; old Arthur Webley's been clipping some hedgerows that don't belong to him. I need you to take Lyle and Saxon with you on this one."

Judy perked up a little. "Is this Arthur Webley dangerous?"

Tusker looked at her in confusion for a moment before tilting his head back and giving a great laugh. "Oh my, no! No, not at all. You'll need them to translate."

Nick raised an eyebrow as Judy's face fell. "What do you mean," Nick asked, "Translate?"

Tusker laughed again. "You'll see."

* * *

Whatever language Arthur Webley was speaking, Judy was convinced it wasn't anything she'd ever heard before or ever would again. She couldn't help but think the elderly mammal was slightly unhinged. He'd answered the door to them with a shotgun held in the crook of one arm and a pair of hedge-trimmers in the other. To add to this, the wizened old goat was wearing his pyjamas despite it being late afternoon; whether he had been in them since waking or had changed into them recently was unknown and his voice sounded more like rocks grinding against one another in some sort of quarry machinery. Lyle, the old wolf, was translating the rumbles into his own mumbled-and-grumbled half words and Saxon was then translating _that_ for her and Nick.

"Gnardun zee worprombee gnigipemnoh."  
"Aidunzee wohprobemare kippenyem ernod."  
"I don't see what the problem is if I clip them or not."

Judy sighed. "I'm sorry Mr Webley, but you can't just go around clipping hedgerows without permission if they don't belong to you."

"Nyerih en."  
"Arih hen."  
"Alright then."

Judy gave Mr Webley a smile. "Thank you very much, Mr Webley, for being so agreeable." she said, slipping her notebook into her pocket. Nick, standing next to her, pointed lazily at Webley's firearm.

"Mr Webley, I do just want to check; do you have a license for that?" Nick asked.

"Vurizn aye."  
"Furissen are."  
"For this one? Aye."

Nick nodded, then froze. Judy's eyes widened and she followed his logic. "Mr Webley," she said, "What exactly do you mean, 'this one'?"

* * *

The shed was old and weather-beaten. The padlock was rusted and after a few attempts of using the key, Mr Webley confirmed Judy's suspicion that it wouldn't have stood up to an attempted breaking-and-entering when he simply raised his shotgun and smashed the lock apart with the butt. Nick stepped in front of her and entered before she did and she heard a gasp of shock. Pushing Nick's tail out of the way, she soon saw why.

The interior of the shed was almost spotless. A few cobwebs here and there, but mostly the entire area was well-kept. Mr Webley must have been using the same padlock for decades for it to have rusted while maintaining a clean room. Across every possible shelf there were rifles, shotguns, pistols, ammunition crates... this old goat's shed in the middle of nowhere was better stocked than the SWAT room in Zootopia Central. Judy's own mouth fell open in horror. If this was all here... and Webley didn't have the correct licenses...

Judy watched as Nick stepped forward to inspect something she couldn't see. Whatever it was, it was hidden behind a stack of crates and it frightened Nick enough that when he saw it his fur bristled and his tail went ramrod straight. "J-Judy." he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I want you... to leave the shed. Now. Please."

Judy raised an eyebrow and took a step forward.

"Judy. Seriously."

Judy took one more step.

"Judith Eileen Hopps, even if you never listen to me ever again, please do as I'm asking you right this minute."

The third step took her past the threshold she needed to breach, and she could see exactly what Nick could.

It was a sea mine.

Some remnant of a bygone era when mammals had been at war with one another; sophisticated enough to use technology, but still fighting amongst themselves enough to only create weapons to murder in new and 'exciting' ways. Sea combat had been the realm of privateers for so long, yet it took a navy to truly come up with ways of trapping the seas with these floating devices.

And it was sitting in front of her and her partner, close enough for her to smell the salt-water that was causing it to rust away inexorably.

"Gnyar, whaya worry 'bouh? Gnoh live!"

Judy jumped and Nick recoiled in fright as Arthur Webley, master of this insane armoury, ground out a surprisingly clear sentence for once and raised his shotgun. Judy saw time slow to a crawl, watched as Nick reached out a paw to the old goat to stop him too late. She watched as Webley slammed the butt of his shotgun down on the hard casing of the sea mine and she heard the resounding, ominous clang...

Followed by a grinding, ticking noise.

She was moving before she registered that Nick was screaming "Move!" repeatedly. Lyle and Saxon had already turned tail and fled, leaving the doorway clear for the sprinting bunny and the fox that was hot on her heels. She raced for a low wall, pouncing over it and hitting the ground so hard she thought she might have left an impression. Not even a full second behind her, Nick's body hit the ground next to her and she felt him curl himself over her to protect her more, then waited for the world to end.

* * *

"I said it's apparently been deactivated, chief." Judy said, holding the radio close to her mouth. She was leaning against the side of their cruiser, and she dared not look at Webley and Nick, who appeared to have become best of friends following their near deaths at the hooves of the goat. They were standing a few metres away, the sea mine resting on the grass between them.

"Gnyer!" Webley yelled, slamming the butt of his shotgun against the shell of the mine that Lyle, Saxon and Nick had carried out of the shed. The rest of the arsenal was currently being loaded into the back of the cruiser the four officers had shared to reach the remote farm, Lyle & Saxon carrying anything Webley didn't have a license for out before returning for more.

"It scared the heck out of me, Carrots!" Nick yelled, giving the mine a kick and making it peal like a church bell.

"Nicholas Wilde will you _stop doing that_?!" Judy yelled back.


	4. The Merchant of Bushel Fields

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Nick nudged the door to the station open with his foot and shuffled through. The wooden vegetable crate filled with ammunition and the two rifles slung over his shoulders made his entry difficult and he could barely believe Judy was faring as well as she was, given she was loaded down with a crate of pistols. Nick smirked and gave the horrified-looking wolf behind the front desk a slow wink. At least today it looked like the canine had brushed his fur before coming in for his shift.

Nick amused himself as he, Judy, Lyle & Saxon trudged back and forth between their cruiser and the evidence room. Somewhere around his third trip Chief Tusker had poked his head out of his office and asked if they'd gotten bored and decided to raid an army depot. Nick had been about to explain but was beaten to the punch by Judy, who smiled innocently and gave a sickeningly-sweet and adorable 'uh-huh!' and started skipping. Nick had nearly dropped a bandolier of grenades on his toes. By the sixth trip, Tusker had gone outside to check that they hadn't commandeered a truck, only to find that they _had_ and that the worst was yet to come. The warthog had taken one short look at the sea mine, gave a quiet 'oh.' and returned to his office. Apparently he hadn't believed Judy's report about that; Nick amused himself as he imagined what the chief's reaction to him _kicking_ the thing would have been. Judy had threatened him with her baton in the end to make him stop.

Nick's good mood had lasted throughout the rest of their shift, paperwork finished and all of the weaponry logged. He closed the door on his locker and exited the small grey room, leaving his fellow male officers behind. Judy was waiting outside for him, leaning against the wall and patting her thighs in time with whatever song was playing in her head. "Hey, Carrots. Nothing better to do, huh?" he said with a smirk.

"Oh, plenty to do, Nick. I've got to find Michael so we can get started on that Bunny Precinct thing."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Michael?"

Judy grinned. "The giant rabbit. I asked Doris about him; apparently he's a giant plushie most of the time. He's a little, um, different, but he's apparently very sweet and innocent."

"I... see. Do I need to chaperone your first date?"

Judy laughed. "Dumb fox. Of course not!"

Nick relaxed slightly. He could do without that particular headache right-

"Unless you _want_ to watch two bunnies go at it?"

Nick choked on the air he was breathing.

* * *

The pair left the station and started the walk back to the hotel. Five minutes and some good-natured chatting about their coworkers back in Zootopia, Nick noticed that he and Judy were next to Renner's store. Nick slowed to a halt, Judy continuing on for a step or two before stopping and looking back.

Nick's mind was ticking over. He _knew_ something was up, but what? For some reason there  
"Nick?"  
was just something that bothered him about Renner; Nick would have just chalked it up to some weird ingrained racism following  
"Hey, Nick?"  
his many years working mammals over and running cons, but that was ridiculous. Foxes didn't usually set him off thinking about those  
"NICK!"

Nick blinked and turned to face forward. Judy was stood in front of him, close enough that he nearly hit his nose on her forehead when he looked down at her, and she looked worried. Nick played the last few seconds through his head and realised he'd ignored her in favour of trying to puzzle out whatever was making his fur itch. "Sorry, Judes. Got a bit carried away there."

Judy thankfully let it drop, nodding but giving him a concerned look anyway. "Okay, Nick. Come on. I was thinking of doing something tonight."

Nick cocked his head at her. "Doing something? Like what?"

"I dunno," she said over her shoulder as she started walking away. "Pub?"

* * *

Nick leaned back in the wooden chair as he stretched his legs out under the table and slouched. Few things in life were better than this; a friend, a pint of ale and a good day's toil behind him. Judy was sitting to his left and was slouching a little too, her own pint of hard cider before her. The choice of drink had surprised him until she'd pointed out that she was the daughter of a farmer; specifically, the daughter of a farmer who specialised in fruits and vegetables, and who had two-hundred and seventy-six kits. Nick had thought on that for a moment before agreeing that if he had been in that position, he'd have probably started his own brewery too.

They talked about everything and nothing as their pockets emptied of coin and their stomachs filled with alcohol. Judy became giggly and Nick became silly as the hours passed, recalling stories and cases that had been absurd, bizarre or downright funny. Their fellow officers might be making it hard for them to fit in but the two were still partners and great friends. Nick went to the bar for them for the rounds, the one time Judy having gone up Frank the badger having given her service without a smile, presumably for her service the other week of banning most of his patrons. His fifth trip, some four hours after their shift ended, was a little staggered due to the floor being suddenly uneven but he made it. "Hiya Mary!" he beamed at the female badger, giving her an exaggerated wink and playing up his inebriation. For her part, Mary just gave him a long-suffering look and put her paws on her hips.

"Officer Wilde, you are a flirt. You know fine well I'm a married sow." she said, shaking her head as she picked up some fresh glasses from underneath the bar and moving to pour his now-regular drinks order again.

"My dear Mary, you are an angel in monochrome fur. Leave this life of pulling booze behind and let me whisk you away into the sunset."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Oh, give it a rest already. Here's your drinks."

Nick grinned. "All work and no play, Mary. Thanks very much." he said, placing a note and some change into her now-outstretched paw and picking up his and Judy's drinks. He turned away from the bar, only to bump into a very unsteady and extremely drunk pig who was somehow even shorter than Judy. The flat cap on the pig's head fell off and landed in the puddle of cider on the floor that had once been the top half-inch of Judy's pint. Nick recovered well, quickly setting the glasses back on the bar before retrieving the cap and helping the pig to his feet.

"I'm so sorry, sir." Nick said, trying to assess if the pig was alright. His blurring vision didn't make the task any easier. "Are you alright?"

"Why, Mr Merchant is just fine; aren't you, George?"

Nick froze at the sound of Simon Renner's voice, a dark-furred paw slapping down on the pig's shoulder right in front of Nick's muzzle. Nick looked up and met Renner's eyes before standing back up from his haunches.

"Mr Renner. Enjoying your night?" Nick said warily. He glanced at the paw that still rested on Merchant's shoulder.

"Why yes, of course, Officer. Myself and Georgie here have been enjoying a little... reconciliatory get-together. Repairing bridges, if you will." Renner said. "Isn't that right, Georgie?"

Merchant looked around, a look of confusion on his face before smiling up at Nick. "Hullo there, Ossifer. You've got red on you." he said, reaching out a trotter to pat Nick's cheek. "S'right there on your face. 'Vyou been dyeing your head? Y'missed a bit!"

Nick couldn't bring himself to chuckle. Renner was as sober as a judge, while Merchant seemed on the verge of passing out.

"I suppose I need to redo it then, George." he said, plastering a smile across his face.

The pig laughed and staggered despite the paw on his shoulder. "Reckon so! 'Scuse me, I'm gonna use the little sty's piglet."

George shrugged Renner's paw off and tottered a little before he regained his balance, wandering off out of sight. Nick refocused his eyes on Renner and widened his smile. "I'm very glad to hear you're working on fixing things between the two of you, Mr Renner. He seems nice enough." he said, leaning in close and making sure to breath out his alcohol-ladened breath right into Renner's muzzle as he stage-whispered. "Seems really drunk at the minute, though."

The move had the desired effect, the skin of Renner's muzzle wrinkling at the smell. "Yes, well. You know how it is, Officer Wilde. Some people don't quite know when to quit."

Nick allowed a little of the old con-man to shine through. "I know it all too well, Mr Renner. Still, some others could stand to be a bit more open to things." he said, his eyes narrowing enough to make sure the point was made while his grin said 'hey, I'm a nice guy, I just said something perfectly innocent and _not_ directed at you in _any_ way'.

Renner smiled, a look that Nick could tell was meant to be pleasant but came off more as the store manager could smell manure. "Indeed. And those who are a bit too welcoming sometimes get burned. Badly."

Renner turned on his heel and stalked off before Nick could say anything else. Nick shrugged mentally and retrieved the glasses, then returned to his table with Judy. The rabbit had been watching. She reached out with both paws for her cider and took a hearty swig while Nick sat down and gave him a look.

"So," she said, "What exactly was all that about? I thought I might have had to get a ruler at one point."

Nick chuckled darkly and sipped his own drink. "Renner gave me the impression he doesn't like the pig much; or any prey animal, for that matter. He wasn't exactly peaches-and-cream about you and me being partners, either, but before I could dig myself into a deep hole we chased that wolf."

Judy smirked. "Nicholas Wilde, are you saying that catching a criminal is _more_ important than defending my honour? I swear, chivalry is dead."

Nick started giggling. "My dear doe-rabbit, it would have given me great pleasure to smack that smug face of his with a metal gauntlet and challenge him to pistols at dawn. Unfortunately, I deemed the apprehension of a wanted canine to be a more worthwhile use of your time than trying to find a pair of flintlocks. As it turns out, we could have just asked Webley."

Judy started laughing and Nick gave a wide grin. It lasted until he caught a glimpse of George Merchant out of the corner of his eye. The drunken pig was currently urinating against a gambling machine, evidently having confused the coin return slot for a urinal. Nick groaned.

"What is it?" Judy asked, turning in her seat to follow Nick's gaze before putting a paw over her mouth. "Oh sweet cheese and crackers. We're going to have to help him home, aren't we?"

Nick sighed heavily, nodding before draining the rest of his glass. It had been a nice night while it lasted.

* * *

George Merchant's feet dangled in mid-air and swayed from side to side. The pig was giving a drunken and very out-of-tune rendition of 'Show me the way to go home', his arms slung over Nick and Judy's shoulders as they carried him home. The height difference between the fox and the rabbit meant Nick had to bend uncomfortably at the waist but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. At least Frank and Mary had offered a couple of pints later in the week on the house if they acted as an escort for the pig.

Nick was almost tempted to join in with a verse or two as they left the regular streets of Bushel Fields behind. It turned out that Merchant's house was a private estate surrounded by tall black railings, golden 'GM's emblazoned at regular intervals. The house was a palace compared to the surrounding village and stuck out like a sore tail.

Judy whistled, impressed. "Doesn't really fit with the rustic aesthetic, does it, Nick?" she asked rhetorically as the gates swung open of their own accord. George must have had a proximity sensor in his key-fob as he certainly hadn't pressed any buttons.

"Yep... talk about money. I bet this guy never had to sell pawpsicles." Nick said, looking around at the perfectly mown lawn and ostentatious displays of wealth.

The pair walked up to the door, setting Merchant down on the porch. The drunken hog fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill and pushing it into Judy's paws. "S'fer the lift. Keep th'tip." he said.

Judy boggled at the sudden appearance of the money in her hands until Nick plucked it from her. "Here's your change, George." he said, offering the slightly crumpled note back to the pig.

"Bless you." Merchant said, taking the note back and stuffing it into his pocket once more. He swung about, somehow fitting his house key into the front door in one swift motion and opening the door. He stepped across the threshold and fell flat on his face. "I'm okay!" he cried, voice muffled by the carpet.

Judy burst out laughing and Nick joined her after a moment. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. "My fair doe-rabbit, would you permit a dashing scoundrel such as myself to escort you to your door?" he said, puffing out his chest.

Judy poked him in the gut sharply, Nick bending double and giving a small 'oof'. "Less of the scoundrel, Nick. Teach me the words to that song George was singing."

Nick chuckled and began a much-more correct version of the song, Judy joining in for the chorus as they left the gates of George Merchant's home.

Neither of them saw the figure in the black robes, watching them from the shadows.

* * *

George staggered through his home to his kitchen, retrieving a bottle of beer from his fridge and opening it on his third try. He swigged from it heavily and swayed a little. He moved out of the kitchen, sipping occasionally from the bottle, and made his way to the bathroom.

His aim was impaired, especially with taking the occasional draught from the bottle while answering the call of nature, and he gave a satisfied sigh as he finished both the beer and emptying his bladder at the same time.

If George had lived and told his tale of this night, he would have mentioned seeing a figure, twice his height or more, raising a menacing black stick and bringing it down sharply at his head. He wouldn't have remembered the moment of impact, nor the vague sensation of being dragged back towards the kitchen before passing out.

* * *

The animal in black robes moved with swift and silent purpose, emptying the makings of a hearty midnight snack into various pans and placing them upon the gas range. Another bottle of beer was opened and placed in reach of the unconscious pig slumped in a dining room chair. The blood leaking from the back of the pig's head was of no consequence.

A decorative candle on the table in front of the pig was lit. The gas taps were opened. The house abandoned, bar the ill-fated owner.

George Merchant's house was almost completely destroyed in the gas explosion that claimed his life. The pig's flaming corpse was launched from it's position in the kitchen through the swiftly-disintegrating building and, after a short-lived existence as a flaming comet of flesh and bone, slammed into his own gates and crashed them open.

Back in their hotel rooms, Nick and Judy were fast asleep and none the wiser.


	5. Pun Times

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Nick's muzzle wrinkled in distaste as the scent of cooked flesh wound it's way up his nostrils. Although long cooled following the explosion that claimed him, George Merchant's corpse still stank to his sensitive canine sense of smell. Judy, standing beside him, looked just as disgusted.

This was no way for someone to leave this world.

Nick focussed on the task at hand, keeping traffic moving past the crime scene and ruins of Merchant's house, as he kept one ear on the doctor's explanation of the cause of death. Not that it was a surprise, of course; immolation wasn't exactly subtle.

"Given the extent of the damage I'd say Mr Merchant decided to have a midnight snack, forgot to light the gas and fell asleep. There's no obvious pre-mortem wounds or damage, although the body is damaged quite substantially. The skin is still quite supple so I'd say that cause of death was the explosion and impact; usually being burned to death tends to make mammals with large subcutaneous deposits of fat a bit more... well, crispy. If you look here-"

Nick's eyes picked out a flash of red across the street and his lips compressed as he clenched his teeth slightly. Standing across the street, far away from his place of work or anywhere he had a reason to visit, it seemed... was Simon Renner. The middle-aged fox had an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth and a small metal lighter in his paw. Nick's gaze hardened and he let out a low, dangerous growl as he realised what Renner was doing.

He was flicking the lighter open, igniting it, then snapping it shut. Again. And again. And again. And looking right into Nick's eyes.

Nick felt a small paw hit his sternum lightly and he broke his eyes away from the taunting mammal. Judy had her paw outstretched and was blocking him from moving further forwards. Nick hadn't even realised he had started walking towards Renner. He looked up again, only to see the tip of Renner's tail disappear around a corner.

"Did you see him, Carrots?" Nick asked his partner.

"I did, Nick," Judy replied, "but we're working right now. Unfortunately, being an insensitive jerk isn't grounds for arrest. If it was our first day might have gone a lot different for you."

Nick let another growl rumble for a few seconds as his anger subsided. He resolved to have a very pointed discussion with the older fox. Soon.

Nick was pulled from his ire as a small Dictaphone was shoved under his nose by an energetic-looking white rabbit with black ears pointing out from under a trilby. "What the-"

"Officer Wilde; Tim Messenger of the Bushel Citizen. Could you spare a few moments to-" the bunny said, talking so fast Nick almost didn't process what he was saying. He was still reeling from the sudden verbal assault when Judy pushed him aside and gave Messenger a pointed stare.

"Mr Messenger, a press release will be issued shortly. Please move on."

The news-bunny's ears twitched slightly. "Officer Hopps, please, just a couple of details about-"

"Mr Messenger, I've asked you once. If you do not move on then we will be forced to discuss this at the station."

"But _please_ , Miss Hopps, as one bunny to ano-"

Judy's cuffs were in her paw in the blink of an eye and Messenger gave a small squeak of surprise before turning tail and fleeing. Nick watched as she replaced the metal bracelets to their pouch on her belt and found his tongue again. "Did you just _threaten_ someone?"

Judy huffed a little and pointed one of her soft claws at him. "Did you just _freeze_ when surprised by a rabbit?"

"That's different! He jumped out at me; you just acted like the bad cop on our team. I thought _I_ was the bad cop?" Nick said.

Judy grinned. "We're both the good cop, I'm just stricter. You're definitely the more timid one, though. Seriously, he wasn't even as tall as me even with the hat." She said.

"You are mean. I'm telling your mother."

"Please," Judy said, turning to face Nick. She flopped her eyes as flat against her back as she could and widened her eyes. Her nose twitched gently and she twisted the toes of her right foot back and forth. Nick resisted the weird urge to pet his partner's head. "You think my mommy would believe a that a cute widdle bunny could fwighden da big bad foxy-woxy?"

Judy gave a small 'oof' as Nick's paw landed heavily on her head. "Your _mommy_ happens to like me and think I'm trustworthy. I'm sure I could make a good case that would at least be investigated. And we've been partners too long for the 'Adorable them to death' routine to work any more."

"My dad knows how to break your tail in four places using only one paw."

"Oh, are we playing the 'My daddy can' game now? I thought we were talking about your mom."

"Are you two quite done?"

Nick and Judy turned at the sound of Chief Tusker's voice. The warthog was standing beside them, arms folded and tapping his hoof. He nodded pointedly in the direction of the slowly moving traffic, both pedestrian and vehicle, that had built up during Nick and Judy's back-and-forth. The pair went back to work immediately with a soft chorus of 'Sorry, sir's.

* * *

After the body had been removed from the scene and the road had been cleared of debris there had been little reason for a continued police presence of any real size so Judy and Nick had been relegated to another shift in their cruiser. The pair had taken a few minutes in the admittedly long lull between their radio check-ins to call into the small newspaper store. The summer sun was high enough that Judy bought herself and Nick an Icy-Carrot each. The visit had been as uneventful as their surveillance of the streets, but for a radio handset hidden behind the sales counter crackling to life and a static-laden voice cooing to the store clerk about 'getting a piece of the furry red hunk' that had just entered the store. Judy had giggled to herself as Nick did his best to act like he hadn't heard. They were still eating the treats when Nick broke the silence.

"Something about that fox just unsettles me. I don't trust him at all."

Judy hummed in agreement. "Possible internalised racism there, Nick, but I'm suspicious too."

Nick scoffed at the accusation. "I just wish I could figure out what it is about him that set me off first, though. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a whole other level of creep with the way he talks and acts sometimes, but even when he joined us on the jog and cracked that stupid 'slasher' line... something was just screaming at me that he was bad news."

Judy sucked the end of her treat thoughtfully. "I've been around him only a little less than you, and I only just started getting the heeby-jeebies. Maybe it's something subconscious? Does he remind you of anyone?"

"Nope. And trust me, I've known some real sleazeballs."

"You'll get it eventually, Nick. You're the brains of the outfit; I'm the brawn."

Nick almost choked on his Icy-Carrot.

* * *

Two days later the coroner's report was returned for George Merchant. Accidental death wasn't exactly exciting, but neither was it surprising. A vote had been put to the council and it had been decided that the grounds of George's estate were to be used for a memorial garden in the pig's memory. It was a nice gesture but somewhat hasty in Nick's opinion, given that the foundations were still being removed from the destroyed property. Still, he and Judy thought no more of it at the time.

The macabre excitement of a death in the village faded away quickly. A small funeral took place in the church grounds, led by an aged rabbit in the vestments of the clergy. Within a week, the scene of the explosion had been cleared and, by the fourteenth day of Judy and Nick's forced holiday, work had begun on creating the George Merchant Memorial Garden.

Nick and Judy sat in their cruiser on the outskirts of town. They had parked in a lay-by area just off the road and Nick mumbled the speeds of vehicles that passed as they registered on the digital speed-trap sitting on the dashboard. Judy, as was usual when they might be forced to engage in a pursuit, sat in the driver's seat and drummed her paws against the wheel. The cruiser was no thoroughbred beast, snarling and ready to pounce at the slightest tap of the gas, and Nick knew she missed the sense of power.

"Twenty-five." Nick said as a car meandered past.

Judy sighed.

Nick counted the minutes. He had reached eleven when another passing vehicle made the trap beep for attention. "Twenty-nine."

Judy's forehead hit the steering wheel with a soft thump and remained there.

Sixteen minutes, this time. "Twenty-seven."

Judy removed her head from the steering wheel and glared at him.

"Come on, Carrots, I have to do this. You know I do." he said, giving her a sympathetic look. "You never know, maybe one of these country-folks likes a bit of wind in their fur?"

Judy sighed heavily and Nick watched as she took her carrot pen from a pocket and flipped open a notebook. He sat back in his seat and watched out of the corner of his eye as she doodled, smiling a little when she started relaxing a little more and nodding her head in time with a tune only she could hear as she continued to draw.

Nick's minute count was almost at forty when she perked up in her seat with a grin on her face and shoved the now-closed notebook into his face. "Check it out!" she said chirpily.

Nick took the little pad from her and flipped open the front cover. In the bottom corner a small rabbit smiled widely at him. He grinned and slid a claw between the back cover and the final page, pulling the paper up and letting it flick, page by page, back into place. The doodles came to life, the little cartoon bunny falling upon a positively giant carrot and devouring it in a few comically-large bites before grinning at whoever was looking. Nick chuckled and gave Judy the notebook back. "That," he said, "is actually pretty good. And hey, you've finally relaxed a little when we're at work. The vacation must be working."

Judy gave a derisive snort and rolled her eyes. "There's just nothing else to _do_ , Nick. I mean, even when we're sitting in the square we at least have mammals to look at, but this is our current existence. You, me, the car and that hedgerow. It's just so bor-"

A roar and streak of silver metal flashed past the window. The trap bleeped almost immediately and Nick yelled "Seventy-four!" as Judy scrambled back into her driving position. The tyres screamed in protest as Judy floored the gas pedal, Nick having just enough time to flick the switch on the centre console that set their siren wailing and light-rig spinning before he succumbed to the acceleration pushing him back into his seat. He grinned widely and gave a 'woop' of joy as they _finally_ got to do something. Judy was all-business again, apart from her own predatory grin that looked very much out of place. Rabbits were not meant to have that many teeth.

The chase, such as it was, ended almost as soon as it began. The silver convertible with two passengers pulled over to the side of the road and slowed to a halt within seconds; this had the horrible effect of having given the two officers a burst of adrenaline and simultaneously disappointing them when they suddenly yearned for the rush of a protracted engagement.

Judy hopped out of the cruiser, walking up to the driver's side of the convertible and taking a look at the occupants. A forty-something weasel with a fairly obvious dye-job to cover the greying fur around his muzzle and ears and a young doe-rabbit with a slightly-larger than usual overbite and a vapid smile on her face.

Nick was a couple of steps behind Judy to offer support and he almost groaned as he heard the weasel start talking before Judy even got to his door. _This,_ he thought to himself, _is going to suck._

"Hello there, Officer. I'm dreadfully sorry, was I going a bit over the limit there? I'm afraid we're in a bit of a rush, you see, and-"

"Sir, you were traveling at seventy-four miles per hour in a thirty zone. That is far more than 'a bit over the limit'. Is there a particular reason that you felt the need to do this?" Judy said, her tone stern.

"Well, I er, I'm in the play this evening, you see. The amateur dramatics society. We're putting on a play, Romeo and Juliet, and I'm the lead. Myself and the lovely Miss Draper here are running late, so I put my foot down a tad more than I should."

Judy's notebook was in her paw, the other holding her carrot pen and scribbling notes even though Nick knew for a fact the built-in recorder was running as well. "And you believe this is an adequate excuse to flout the safety of yourselves and your fellow road users?" she asked.

"I- I'm sorry, officer, but what are you doing?" the weasel asked.

"Writing down everything you're saying. Answer the question please."

"Officer, there really is no need for this-"

"No... need..."

"I'm a lawyer, I happen to know that-"

"Law-yer..."

"Will you just _stop. Writing._ "

"... stop... writing..."

The weasel, who until now had been getting more and more frustrated, simply stopped. He plastered a pleasant smile on his face and relaxed his shoulders. The rabbit by his side had started looking a little worried but at the sight of her companion calming himself had also relaxed a little. "Officer, you're right. There was no need for this. I apologise."

Nick smirked as Judy flipped her notebook closed with a light snap. "Thank you, sir. Might I trouble you for your license and registration, just for my notes?"

The weasel gave Judy a simpering smile that said he would rather eat something that had started growing mold but reached out to his glove compartment and retrieved the papers.

Judy scanned the documents quickly, handing them back a couple of moments later and flipping her notebook open again to jot down the weasel's name. "Thank you again, Mr Blower. I hope that your production tonight is a success. I used to be a bit of an actress myself."

"Thank you. May we go?" the weasel asked, his teeth grinding slightly. Judy nodded and stepped back, allowing the car to pull away at a much more sedate pace. Nick waited until Mr Blower was out of sight, then gave Judy a low-paw and clambered back into the cruiser.

* * *

"Well, Carrots," Nick said as Judy climbed back into the driver's seat and started the engine. "That was impressive. Thirty seconds of car chase and then you just let him go. What gives?"

Judy sighed. "Well, he wasn't doing anywhere near as fast as your good friend Flash, and we both know there's no other cars on this route. We've been watching it for the last half an hour or more and there's been no-one come past at all. Besides, I get the feeling a bruise to his ego would be more effective than giving him time to try and fight a ticket. He actually is a lawyer, so..."

"You should have arrested him," Nick said with a grin, "then he could be a _criminal_ lawyer."

Judy gave him a look. "Seriously with the puns, Nick?"

"That was completely _pun-intentional_. Let's get back to the lookout, huh?"

"I swear I'm going to murder you and hide the body out here."

"The headlines would be like bad B-Movie titles. Hey, did I tell you about this pretty little doe-rabbit I met the other day?"

Judy's ears perked a little. "No, you didn't. When was this?"

Nick shuffled back into his seat to get comfortable as Judy set the car moving. "The other night. I'd gone to the store so I could get a few snacks for my hotel room. Anyway, there I am in the candy aisle when this adorable little brown-furred beauty comes up to me and started talking to me about how it's nice to see me again, how she's gone fully vegan after some article in a magazine convinced her that milk and cheese are bad for the digestive system. I didn't have a clue what she was on about, but I played along for a while."

"That's really weird, Nick," Judy said, looking side-long at her partner and raising an eyebrow at his story. "How do you think she knew you?"

"No clue, Carrots. If there's one thing I can tell you about that brunette vegan, it's that I've never met _herbivore._ "

"NICK!"


	6. Shakespaw's Ghost

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Judy sighed heavily as she pushed the door to her locker shut. The last hour in the cruiser with Nick had been nothing but pun after pun, even when she resorted to hitting him. Thankfully the moment she had started the engine and announced that they were returning to the station Nick had fallen silent. _Hopefully,_ she thought, _he'll_ stay _that way._

She stepped past Doris and gave a small wave of goodbye to her. Nick had complained enough to her about the rough-housing that occasionally took place in the male locker-room, the pranks that he always seemed to be the punchline for... she had found that, when no longer surrounded by testosterone, the pantheress was a lot more subdued and far less prone to cracking innuendo-laden phrases. Doris gave a small, almost shy smile and gave a quiet 'see ya'.

Nick was waiting for her. His fur was a little lighter than earlier, especially on the top of his head. She squinted a little and realised he'd probably been hit with a flour bomb of some kind. That certainly explained the lack of a smirk. He'd done a good job of cleaning it off, at least. Mostly.

"I take it you forgot to check?" Judy asked. She walked past Nick and heard him shift as he began to walk slightly behind her.

"I just wanted to get out of here. I'm bored, I'm tired, I want a pizza, a beer and a movie. Preferably not the pub." he groused.

Judy turned and gave him a smile. "Don't you worry, Nick. We'll have a nice relaxed night."

A door clicked open and revealed Chief Tusker. The warthog gave a wide grin as he saw the duo. "Ah, Judy! Nicholas!" he said, stepping in front of them. "I was hoping I could ask a favour of you both?"

Nick's expression grew stormy and Judy's own smile faltered a little. "Sure, chief, what can we do for you?" she asked.

"Well, I was hoping to tempt you both with a bit of excitement. You see, there's an event tonight and I was wondering if you could represent Bushel Fields' police contingent. Best of all, it's free."

Judy could tell Nick was at least a little intrigued. This sounded a little out of the ordinary, something to break the monotony of things. "Sure thing, chief, we'd be glad to." she said.

"Wonderful news," Tusker said, beaming as he pushed two small slips of paper into her paw. "I hope you enjoy it."

The chief left almost as swiftly as he had appeared and Judy soon realised why. In her paws she held two tickets. Two tickets for the opening night of the Bushel Fields' Amateur Dramatics Society's production of Romeo and Juliet. Starring Martin Blower... and Evelyn Draper.

Judy let out a groan and let her head droop forwards in resignation. At Nick's noise of curiosity she held the tickets up above her head, facing him. She let her arm drop back to her side as she heard Nick's groan of dismay. When she heard his forehead thump against the wall three times she reached behind her, grabbed his shirt sleeve, and dragged him out of the station. The wolf at the front desk, his fur ruffled and disheveled once again, looked up from his novel long enough to mutter a 'Goodnight' as they left. Nick, Judy noticed, put his paw against his temple in imitation of a pistol and barked an imitation of a gunshot.

She almost copied him.

* * *

Judy sat in the audience with her eyes glazed over and her jaw slack. Her mind, over the last two hours, had been so anaesthetised and numbed that she could barely comprehend the accurate but horrifically delivered lines of Shakespaw that the two mammals she cautioned for speeding earlier were trotting out. Blower over-acted every single motion, making even the subtlest of gestures a full-blown extravagance. He forced so much effort into projecting his voice that he had experienced at least two coughing fits during the second act and had grown steadily hoarser in the third. 'Eve' Draper, by comparison, was completely unable to act. Every line was delivered without the slightest inflection and Judy had the horrible feeling that somewhere in the front row, Eve's lines were actually written out for her. And her voice! Judy would have felt bad for thinking it, if she hadn't been subjected to such torture, but Eve Draper's country bumpkin accent was almost worse than Gideon Gray's had been, all dropped-consonants and elongated vowels. Shakespaw was spinning in his grave, Judy was sure.

She gathered her courage and energy, concentrating hard on breaking away from the disaster happening in front of her and what felt like the rest of the village, and dared to look at Nick.

He was in a bad way. The fox was slumped so far down in his chair his eyes were level with her shoulders. He was gazing at the stage as she had, eyes glassy and mouth hanging open. His tongue lolled out across his teeth and he was drooling slightly, making no moves to clear the mess. From the small damp spot on his shirt, he'd been at it a while. Judy lifted a paw and prodded him gently. There was no response.

Judy sincerely hoped he was just sleeping with his eyes open. Her own sense of workaholic-like duty kept her awake and barely coherent, and she would much rather spare Nick the agony if she could. Life, it appeared, was cruel. Death, possibly at this point, a mercy.

Judy's ears perked a little. She recognised that line. It was nearly over! She focused her attention back on the stage, suddenly awake again as the end of her ordeal was in sight. Eve was laid out on a cloth-draped table in center stage, unlit candelabra surrounding it. Blower was still giving an awful performance, croaking out his final lines.

"Oh true apothecary!" Blower crowed, coughing a little. "Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die!"

He laid beside Eve's body, shuffling slightly as he tried to get comfortable on the surface. His 'death' was somewhat spoiled by the muffled grunts and growls as he tried to ease his ailing vocal chords. The pair remained where they were until a voice hissed from stage right. "Eve! Eve, it's time!"

The doe sat upright immediately, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She smiled widely at the audience and, in possibly her most convincing acting of the night so far, looked down upon the body of her 'beloved'. "What's here? Poison!" she cried, swooning back and bringing the back of her paw to her forehead. "I know; I'll kiss thy lips, ere some doth remain on 'em."

Judy frowned. That wasn't right; the lines were supposed to be longer. And where was the scene with Barkasar and Friar Laurence? Her frown grew even more when the chaste kiss of a young maiden joining her love in the sweet embrace of eternal slumber was replaced by a rather more... sultry affair, the soft moans of pleasure and visible sight of colliding tongues as the weasel and the bunny kissed for a full thirty seconds. Judy glared hard, hoping her sight could inflict the final dagger. Her eyes widened however, as Eve pulled an obviously fake gun from beneath the table and pressed it against her temple, yelling 'BANG!' as the lights of the stage cut out and left Judy and the rest of the audience in pitch darkness.

Judy's mouth fell open in shock. The _entire play_ had been, until now, set in the correct time period. _WHY_ was there a gun? Her disbelief grew when, after a quick shuffling of set-pieces, the stagelights came back on and a _song and dance_ finale was played out in front of her.

Through it all, Nick remained still, the only sign of life the steady drip of drool onto his shirt.

* * *

The foyer of the playhouse was filled with the prior occupants of the theatre. Judy thanked all of the gods of all the religions she had ever heard of as she made a beeline for the complimentary champagne, downing two glasses and snatching a third before Nick had caught up. The fox was still decidedly dazed and seemed to have been struck by short-term amnesia, not remembering anything of the horrendous display beyond actually arriving at the theatre.

Judy gasped for breath, raising her third glass of the gently-fizzing alcohol to her lips and taking a large gulp. This was most definitely not how the drink was meant to be imbibed, but if it helped her wipe that... _travesty_ from her mind... She made to drain the rest of the glass but Nick's paw stopped her. He had reached forward, wrapping his digits about hers and holding her paw in place. He looked concerned.

"Trust me, Nick," she said, peeling his paw away and draining the glass. "You might not remember, but what I just saw in there will haunt me for a very long time. If I come out of tonight and can forget even half it, I will be able to die happy."

Nick blinked slowly, still slightly befuddled by his memory loss. "Was it really that... bad?"

Judy fixed him with a glare. "It was bad enough, Nicholas Wilde, that you are currently in the throes of suppressing the memory. You were practically comatose the entire way through. I have never seen something so utterly and completely change how I look at acting and stage-shows as much as I have tonight."

"How wonderful of you to say so!" a much less hoarse Martin Blower said, the crowds milling around parting before him like he was some form of messiah... or smelled like stale popcorn. "I say, Timmy, did you hear that?"

Judy froze as the weasel beamed at her. Tim Messenger, the reporter-bunny from the site of George Merchant's death, appeared as swiftly as if he'd been pulled from a hat with his dictaphone in hand. "I sure did, Mr Blower." the enthusiastic buck said, pressing the button to replay what he had captured.

" _... I have never seen something so utterly and completely change how I look at acting and stage-shows as much as I have tonight."_

Judy's eyes widened in horror, as did Nick's. "So," Messenger said with a smile, "Can I use that as a direct quote?"

Judy's jaw worked as she tried to say 'no', but she had been blindsided. She was supposed to be the one catching mammals out with a voice recorder. This was... this was animal cruelty. She finally managed to recover and her teeth came together to begin the 'n' of 'no'.

"I should think such glowing praise needs to be on the front page, don't you Tim?"

Judy's mouth fell open again as Simon Renner slunk into view, slipping an arm around Messenger's shoulders for a moment before the reporter gave a squeal of fright and dashed away. Renner laughed, a sinister sound as he watched Messenger scamper away with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Judy heard Nick's growl but didn't have chance to calm him before Renner had focused on her. "Well, well, Officer Judy Hopps. I must say, I am quite a fan of your work. You've put a lot of effort in to get... well, here. Speaking of hard work, I must say Martin, you absolutely killed it up there today. I imagine that your performance tonight will be hailed as one of your finest."

The weasel puffed up his chest and gave a smug grin. "Well, you know me, Simon. A weasel of many talents."

"Indeed you are my friend and, speaking of, we must of course congratulate our leading doe. Evie Draper, you are looking as _rare_ as ever." Renner said, offering a toothy grin to the bunny that was practically hanging from Blower's arm.

Judy's teeth gritted as a high-pitched and grating giggle, interspersed with a snort or two, came from the other rabbit. Judy could hear Nick's teeth grinding too, although probably for an entirely different reason.

"Thank you Mr Renner," Eve said, "but I kept forgetting my lines. Seems like I just couldn't keep 'em up there."

"Oh Evie, my dear, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about," Renner said with a sly grin. He reached out a paw and stroked a claw gently down Eve's cheek. "After all, a smart little thing like you must just be full of secrets that keep pushing less important things like _lines_ out. Why, I'm almost convinced if we were to bash your head in all sorts of things would come tumbling out into the light of day."

Judy practically heard the 'twang' as Nick's resolve snapped and he stepped forward to give Renner a seething, fury-fuelled piece of his mind. She grabbed his paw and squeezed hard. "I'm terribly sorry, everyone, but myself and Nick must really be getting on. It's been quite a night and we've got an early start tomorrow. Mr Renner, a pleasure to meet you. Miss Draper, Mr Blower... drive safe."

Before any of them could speak, including Nick, she whipped around and walked at speed to the exit, Nick following in her wake like flames followed a rocket.

* * *

Once they were a few streets from the bustle of the theatre Judy stopped walking quite as fast and allowed Nick to catch up. "Do you want to tell me why you just dragged me away from that sleazy, no-good scum-bag from that rabbit? He was practically trying to eat her in front of everyone, talking about her like a piece of- of- of _meat_ , and-"

Judy stomped her foot upon Nick's and grabbed a pawfull of his shirt as he yelped. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde; _shut. up._ I am _fully_ aware of the language being used by that submammal and you are going to control your mouth before _I_ control it _for you_."

"But he was-"

"I do not care, Nick. I don't! Is what he said offensive to prey? Yes. Apparently it's just as offensive to you. Now, we are not going to go ballistic at a fox the word 'stereotype' was apparently created _for_ , especially when he could easily be a _suspect._ "

That shut Nick up for a moment. "A suspect? A suspect for _what_?"

"Think about it Nick. You've told me about what he said in his office with you before we chased the wolf down. He's creepy in general, is almost definitely a predator-supremacist, yet was seen completely sober with a heavily intoxicated pig just a few hours before said pig's death. A death which, I'd like to remind you, completely destroyed 'that monstrosity of a house on the outskirts'. We need to see if there's motive beyond just hating prey."

Nick calmed a little, giving Judy a raised eyebrow. "Seriously? Carrots, the coroner pretty much ruled out foul play. All the evidence points to it being an accident, and yeah, I agree that it's suspicious as all heck, but do you really think that we've somehow managed to stumble onto something straight from an episode of Midsummer Murders?"

Judy's own eyebrow raised. "Midsummer who-now?"

"It's a TV show... murder-mysteries in a village... never mind. Look, the point is that Renner is a scumbag, but a murdering scumbag? I'm not exactly his greatest fan and even I have trouble seeing it."

Judy folded her arms and glared at Nick. "Fine. Fifty bucks says we dig and we find something."

Nick threw his arms up in defeat. "Fine, Hopps. Fine. If we find some dirt, you win. If we find out he's just a creep, I win." He held out a paw. "Deal?"

Judy grabbed Nick's paw with her own and shook it firmly. "Deal. Now let's go buy some beers and get a pizza. I am _angry_ and _hungry_ and I just need to drown out that insanity with something before I lose my head completely."

Judy stomped off, Nick slouching along behind her. "Me too, Judes. Me too."

* * *

Eve Draper heard a soft knock upon the door to her dressing room. She giggled to herself as she stood from her chair in front of a lit mirror and walked to the entrance, pulling the door open and leaning against the doorframe seductively. "Why 'ello there, Miss-shure Blower. Come to practice the final scene again?"

Martin Blower gave a sly grin and stepped into Eve's room, knocking the door shut with his foot. He held a bottle of champagne he had snaffled from the reception as everyone else left and gave Eve a swift peck of a kiss upon her cheek as he unwound the cork and popped the bottle open.

The couple kissed, as passionately as Judy Hopps had seen them upon the stage earlier. They jumped slightly and parted as a rather stern and strong knocking sounded from the door. Martin Blower looked at it quizzically before walking over. He grasped the handle and opened the door. "Now look here-" he said, before he was rather abruptly interrupted.

After all, a medium-sized fire axe to the neck does tend to make it rather difficult to speak.

Martin Blower's final moments were spent looking at a figure in flowing black robes. He felt a rather odd jerk around his shoulders as the figure moved again, an axe glinting in the soft light coming from Eve's mirror. He fell backwards, watching in slow motion as Eve came into view. She had a spray of some odd red liquid across her face and she looked like she was screaming. Martin was confused by this. He couldn't hear anything apart from a strange roaring in his ears. At counterpoint to this, there was a rather distinct lack of a noise he couldn't quite place. It was only when the back of his skull hit the floor and he felt himself roll that he realised, rather too late, that his head had been separated violently from his torso. As if to confirm his theory, he watched his killer step over his own body and raise the axe to Eve.

Martin Blower's sight became grey and fuzzy at the edges, but through sheer force of will he remained alive to bear witness to his lover's death. Isn't that what true love was? Witnessing your partner at their best and worst, and fighting for them to the end, no matter what.

With that, the stage lights dimmed and the roar of applause in his ears faded to silence. Exeunt.


	7. For Whom the Bells Toll

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

The sound of the telephone on his bedside table woke Nick from his slumber. He pushed himself up on his elbows and opened bleary eyes, taking in the sight of his lodgings. There were a few empty beer bottles scattered about on the flat surfaces, a mostly-empty pizza box balancing precariously on one corner of the still-made bed, and a mass of grey fur slumped across his legs.

Nick closed his eyes in spite of the ringing phone and scrunched his eyelids tightly before taking a second attempt at viewing the world. The room was the same, as was the position he found himself in. He and Judy were still wearing their casual clothes from the night before; he was laid out on his back on the bed and Judy laid perpendicular to him, over his thighs. She was on her front, her head slumped down at an odd angle due to the elevation of her ribcage. She was cuddling an empty beer bottle.

Still half-asleep, Nick fumbled for the handset of the telephone and placed it against his ear, grateful that the noise had stopped. He tried hard to listen to the slightly distorted voice coming from the earpiece but couldn't focus fully, sleep still fighting to claim him. He picked out a few words, confusing and jumbled as they were, and pulled the handset away to give it a concerned look. His voice broke the renewed silence of the room, his single word question causing Judy to stir.

"Decaffeinated?"

* * *

Nick looked around the scene of the car crash; broken glass littered the asphalt like confetti at a wedding, the car lay broken and crumpled in the hedge that bordered the tarmac, and two macabre offerings gazed emptily into the morning sun with clouded eyes. Nick had made a point of not noticing that Judy was standing far back from the scene, taking on the role of directing traffic away almost as soon as they could see the outcome of the incident.

"Well," Portillo began, the leopard rising from his haunches. He had been squatting near the heads of the victims, and gestured lazily at the road before him. "Looks like Blower was driving. Must've lost control of the vehicle back there a-ways, then _shunk_." the impression of the noise that he believed two heads being parted from their owners shoulders by a street sign was punctuated by a cut-throat gesture, then another lazy point to the resting place of the car. "before it ploughed into the bushes. Terrible accident, it looks like. So... what, er... what shall we do?"

Nick was still taking in the picture in front of him. It certainly was plausible. There was something-

"Officer Wilde?"

Nick looked up and around. Portillo was looking at him expectantly. Nick blinked. "Uh... yeah?"

"I asked what we should do."

Nick's eyebrow raised. "What?"

Portillo at least looked a little embarrassed as he gave a pitiful look, speaking volumes about his experience and capability as an officer of the law as he leant a little closer. "Help me."

Nick realised what was being requested and forced his mind to shift gears. "Ah. We, er, we need to set up a proper cordon and block off the remains from view. We'll photograph any parts of the scene we haven't yet and clear the debris before getting the bodies out and then having a truck come to take the vehicle to the closest impound yard. Once that's all done we can give a final sweep and reopen the road fully. Hopps is working traffic already; Portillo, you join her. Saxon, Lyle, can you both get the barrier up. Doris, I'm going to want you with me on photographs so we can cover each other. You might see something I'm missing and vice-versa."

The group broke with a chorus of 'right's and 'okay's. _At least_ , Nick thought guiltily, _they can work with me and Carrots in the field without too much of a train-wreck happening_.

* * *

Judy decided she could have stood with a phone book for Bushel Fields in her paws and ticked off every single name as the cars slowly passed. Each occupant was familiar and tried pushing their luck as they rubber-necked the scene, ogling any scrap or bloodstain in a vulgar display of nosiness. Two mammals dead, and all the living cared about was getting a bit of gossip, it seemed. She didn't like to cast aspersions either, but she had only been working with Portillo for ten minutes and had given up trying to stop him from giving out details. Thankfully, now the barrier was up, the questions had boiled down to a simple rinse-and-repeat; ' _What happened, Danny?_ ' the drivers would ask, and 'Danny' Portillo would give a vaguely sad and resigned ' _Traffic accident_ ' in response. It made her grind her teeth.

Judy's mostly-silent attempt at keeping the world moving despite the grisly work going on behind the large white tarpaulin Lyle and Saxon had erected was interrupted in the most blood-curdling way possible, as far as she was concerned. Her ears perked instantly and her vision sharpened.

A jaunty tune playing from the stereo in his convertible, Simon Renner slowly pulled up beside her. He was smiling that infuriating, belittling grin and his bright, sharp teeth practically glinted maliciously. "For never was a story of more woe," he purred at her, "than this of Juliet... and her Romeo."

Judy's eyes narrowed at him and she took a step forward. Her paw rested on the grip of her baton casually, but her every muscle tensed as she felt adrenaline flood her veins. "Would you mind telling me, Mr Renner, exactly what you are alluding to, and how you know details of the incident?"

Renner's look of innocence was a perversion, a greasy facsimile of Nick's own. There was no joy twinkling in his eyes, no amusement. Just a cold, slimy and dark mirth. "My _dear_ Officer Hopps... you know how it is around here; news travels fast. I'm afraid I can't chat more, I have to go grab a _bite_ to eat... I swear, I'm so hungry I could eat..."

Judy's fur ruffled at the leer Renner gave as he took in every centimetre of her, from toes to ear-tips.

"Well," he continued, flashing her a calculated smile that showed her his sharp canines. "You get the idea."

The engine purred and, without as much as a glance backwards, Renner drove off. Judy's anger raged beneath her skin. She nearly lashed out as Portillo's paw landed on her shoulder.

"I have a question, Officer Hopps," the leopard said carefully. "Why did you keep telling me to say 'incident' instead of 'accident'? Officer Wilde just told me the same thing."

"Because, _Danny_ ," Judy said, her teeth gritted so hard she swore she heard one crack. "Accident implies there is no-one to blame."

* * *

Nick pushed the pads of his paws into his eyes so hard he saw idiot-flashes of false colours behind his closed eyelids as his eyeballs deformed slightly. "I genuinely do _not_ get how you two can be this DENSE!" he yelled, having started at a normal volume and failed to temper his mood. Judy was standing behind him, her arms folded and her foot thumping against the floor as she vented her own frustrations in a much more _polite_ manner.

"It's 'cause you're talking rubbish, _Wide_ ," one of the Andys' sneered at him.

"Yeah. Anyone can see it's an accident. Funny how you and _Hop-along_ here are the only ones who think it's anything else."

Nick pretty much heard the eye-roll Judy gave as she grumbled to herself. "Can we please at least be mature about this, Cartwright?" she said, and Nick spared a moment of anger to raise an eyebrow at her. Could she seriously tell them apart?

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Little Doe Peep, how's about you try and tell us why we should be good little lambs and listen to you both?" the one she'd called Cartwright said. The other, Wainwright apparently, just sat back a little in his chair and lit a new cigarette.

"Skidmarks." Judy said, causing both Andys' to snigger and grin.

"Now who's being immature?" Wainwright said, earning a glare from Judy. Nick watched as she flushed under her fur and balled her paws into fists.

"What Judy's saying is there were no skidmarks" _snigger_ "at the scene. That means that, at the speed the car must have been travelling when it hit the sign, for almost three hundred meters neither Martin Blower _or_ Eve Draper tried to prevent their fates. No brakes, boys. Last I checked, cars have those, and if you're about to crash... you press the pedal to the floor." Nick growled, claws digging into the surface of the desk that, thankfully, separated himself and Judy from the two poorest excuses for Detectives he had ever worked with.

At least the two Andys' had enough decency to appear like they were considering that little fact. Until Wainwright opened his mouth again.

"Maybe they didn't notice they were about to crash? That's the definition of an accident, right? Doing something you didn't mean to."

Nick didn't even get to process his frustration before Judy was on the table, grabbing a fistful of shirt collar in each paw and pulling the two Detectives towards he face so quickly they bumped skulls. Nick's jaw dropped as he heard a growl from one of the three... and he was fairly sure it came from Judy.

"You two _chuckleheads_ listen to me _right now_ , before I rip your tails off and turn them into Easter decorations. You _are_ going to look into this, and you _are_ going to do a good job on it. Martin Blower and Eve Draper were killed; me and Nick are pretty much certain that _someone_ is covering it up. We _suspect_ that their deaths are linked to George Merchant's death-"

The Andy in the left paw blasted Judy with breath that reeked of nicotine and halitosis as he recovered from the shock of being tomhandled by a bunny. "Maybe we should interview you and _Wide_ first."

"Yeah, you two were the last ones seen with him."

Judy gave the pair a rough shake and twisted her grip, the collars of their shirts tightening enough to put a little pressure against their throats.

" _You cretins_ are going to do as your titles suggest and DETECT SOMETHING!" she screamed into their faces. Nick grabbed Judy around the waist and pulled her away just in time as her powerful hind legs raised and kicked out at where the Andys' faces would have been. She struggled in his arms, trying to pry herself free and unleash a considerable amount of bunny fury upon the two felines.

The door to the office opened and Chief Tusker popped his head in. His smile was so at odds with the current mood in the room that all present just stared at him.

"I take it from the shouting that this might be a bad time, but are they causing trouble?"

Nick wasn't entirely sure if 'they' referred to himself and Judy or the two Andys', but was beaten to the punch when a chorus of 'Yes!' from the opposite side of the desk had Tusker's face become stern and round upon him and Judy.

"Hopps, Wilde, with me."

* * *

"I want you both to think very hard about what you are about to say before replying to me." Tusker said. Gone was the genial warthog; here was the chief of police that could give Bogo tips on how to glare effectively. He sat behind his desk, the very model of posture and exuded an aura of such control that Nick had trouble believing he had ever seen the warthog smile. He nodded once, maintaining eye contact, and Judy gave a fervent little nod of her own.

"Good. I was walking through my _usually quiet_ station and heard raised voices. I observed an officer practically assault my two detectives and have to be physically restrained from carrying out _actual_ assault. Am I mistaken in what I saw?"

Nick looked at Judy from the corner of his eyes and saw her shoulders slump. "No, chief." she said quietly. Nick looked back at Tusker and shook his head, barely moving.

"When I ask a question, Officer Wilde, I expect a verbal reply. If we could all make do without, we wouldn't have tongues. So answer me."

Nick's mouth was suddenly dry. "Yes, sir. You weren't mistaken, sir."

"I am rather disappointed to hear that. That means there are attitudes that need to be corrected. No-one should be having to resort to such methods to get a point across. It says very bad things indeed about either the point, or the listener. In almost every single case, it falls solely on the shoulders of the mammal with the point."

"Sir, I-" Nick began, only to jump in his chair as a hoof slammed onto the desk in front of him.

"BE SILENT, WILDE!" Tusker bellowed. Nick closed his mouth. "I told you," the warthog continued, "to think very carefully before saying anything. That includes waiting for me to finish. I think I caught the rough outline of what you and Hopps are suggesting happened; foul play at work behind the deaths of Blower, Draper and Merchant. I am going to point out, although I shouldn't have to, that their deaths have all been ruled as accidents by not only our resident doctor-cum-coroner, but we have also not received any conflicting reports from anyone who has reviewed the evidence. We are miles and miles from Zootopia, but we are still part of the ZPD and we are checked and balanced by external agencies just as the big city precincts are."

Nick noticed movement and turned his head to Judy. Her right paw, shaking slightly, was raised slowly into the air. She looked like she was at school again and Nick could barely believe it. This was _not_ Judy Hopps, firebrand police-rabbit. It couldn't be. And then Nick remembered the look on her face when Bogo had given her a piece of his mind in the rainforest district those years before, and his heart ached in sorrow. Of _course_ this was Judy Hopps; she probably had never even so much as gotten in trouble with an authority figure during her kithood years, so _of course_ she would be timid and wary. Tusker, apparently, had nodded. Judy's paw was settled into her lap slowly and her small, measured voice broke the silence.

"Chief... sir. Nick and I have reason to believe that the deaths are being staged as accidents to cover the murders. They're... they're good, believe me. Good enough to fool most. We just think it bears more investigation, but we're being... we're being stonewalled."

Tusker glowered at Judy, and Nick felt like he would have growled if his throat wasn't so dry it felt like he'd taken a bite of Sahara Square. "You are not being 'stonewalled', Officer Hopps. You are trying to force an investigation into matters that have already been resolved, all but accusing my officers and, by extension, myself of incompetence. You are not a Crime Scene Investigator, regardless of your _superb_ record in almost everything else. Likewise, Wilde isn't, either. How is it that two _skilled officers_ whose usual day-to-day activities involve driving patrols and walking a beat around a city, are seeing things that a group of much more experienced officers are missing?"

Tusker stood, leaning forwards across the desk and resting his hooves against the flat surface. "I think that you are so desperate for a case that you are latching onto something and seeing a conspiracy. The entire thing sounds so ridiculous almost any mammal would ignore you; either that or force you to take leave. I am half tempted to kick you both out on your tails and report to Chief Bogo that you're mentally unsound and he was right to send you to a distant little corner of the world for you to finally experience the long overdue breakdowns you've been nursing since forever. Do you understand my position now?"

Nick croaked out a "Yes, sir" as Judy did. She sounded on the verge of tears, although from frustration at the situation or simply from the censure the pair were receiving he wasn't sure.

"I want you both to be clear on my point. It is as follows; you are being troublesome. I do not _like_ troublesome, and I _despise_ and _abhor_ the way you are skulking and undermining my authority with this inane quest of yours to find something untoward. Never let it be said, though, that I am not willing to accept that there is not the _tiniest_ , most _impossibly small_ chance that you are in fact correct."

Nick's eyes widened and he fixed a look of pure disbelief on Tusker. Judy gave a sob beside him and he blindly put a paw out to her shoulder.

Tusker was as stern as before. He stood straight again and folded his arms. "This is a last chance saloon deal, for both of you. I will personally review the evidence with your suggestions in mind for all of these cases. You are both to say no more about it. Once I have reviewed and come to you with my own findings, whatever those may be, you will _accept it and be done_. Do you both understand?"

Judy sniffled beside Nick but stammered out her answer. Nick nodded once and, at the glare, found his tongue. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Get out of my sight; go home early. I'm sick of dealing with you for the time being."

* * *

Nick and Judy, albeit workaholics, did at least have a couple of days off each week due to shift patterns. Saved from trying to avoid their colleagues for the rest of the day, and with their mandatory 'weekend' ahead of them, the pair had changed and left the station with their tails metaphorically between their legs. Judy had managed to last until they got back to Nick's dishevelled room before she burst into tears.

Nick pulled her close and rested his cheek against the top of her head as she shook with heart-wrenching sobs. He let her cry herself out for ten minutes, waiting until her sobs became faint little gasps of breath and the occasional sigh. Once she had collected herself, and soaked his shirt through, he gave her a sad smile.

"You bunnies..." he said softly.

"... s-so emotional." she replied, giving him a failure of a smile.

On the few occasions that Judy ever came up against an impediment that her usually indomitable spirit couldn't breach, usually something she had no control over like what had happened with Tusker, she needed to vent. Nick, long ago having found a coping mechanism of simply letting the situation play out and finding an escape route or way around after the fact, suffered his thoughts in silent introspection. Nick would genuinely argue that out of the two, Judy's reaction was probably the healthier and more mature. She fell down, took stock and bounced back. He fell and wallowed for a while, slowly rising back and finding his level again eventually. Usually with help from Judy.

Nick sat down on the edge of the bed, paws on his knees. "At least Tusker said he would look into it." he said, subdued. Judy wiped moisture from her eyes and sniffed.

"True. I can't help but think he might be right though. I mean... Renner's comments, the lack of skidmarks, Merchant's house. It seems like it's laid out for anyone to see, but what if we _are_ going crazy?"

Nick smirked. The 'at last' wasn't tacked on, but it was there. "Well, Fluff," he said, "I guess we'll just have to live with it. What colour do you want your straight-jacket to be? I hope mine comes in green with a luau pattern. Maybe they'll give me one of those shock collars and I can at least pretend I'm still sane enough to be trusted with a tie?"

"That's not funny."

"You're right. _Yellow_ with a luau pattern."

Judy started giggling and slapped his arm with a paw.

"Ow! Alright, fine, fine, you win. _Blue_."

He got slapped again, but the laugh alone was worth it.

* * *

Their final day of rest fell on a Saturday. It was a bright summer day as picturesque as any other they had seen so far in Bushel Fields but one thing set it apart from the others.

The festival.

Life goes on, as they say, and despite the recent deaths of Martin Blower and Eve Draper, it certainly had gone on. In the grounds of the church, stalls for food, sales and games had been established by the townsfolk to entertain all who came. Judy dragged Nick along, hoping that the atmosphere and being surrounded by people would help pull him from his funk. Nick had agreed, but only on one condition.

Judy Hopps, the doe who had never done anything wrong in her life, who argued she didn't have a dishonest bone in her body... was helping run a con.

Nick's condition had been that she help him take one of the bedside tables from a hotel room and carry it with him to the festival. She had puzzled the request over until she had spotted the three scuffed and fairly battered metal tumblers he had been juggling outside the hotel's entrance.

Now, Judy found herself calling for young and old alike to 'step right up' and 'test their powers of observation'. Nick wasn't charging money at least, so it was slightly less nefarious, but he still cheated and conned by twirling the tumblers and pawing the bright little balls he was having mammals try and keep track of before revealing that, oh no, they hadn't been quite sharp enough. He toyed with the older mammals, joking and working them into a state somewhere between frustration and amusement before letting them win. The younger ones, he encouraged and gave an occasional win to in order to keep them interested, usually making them boggle at exactly how a tiny ball could become almost anything else he wanted it to and feigning surprise at the magic. Judy caught him once or twice, she was proud to say, sleight-of-pawing a carrot or apple under a tumbler and revealing it to a menagerie of wonderous expressions and allowing it to be taken as a treat.

At least he'd stopped pulling carrots from her ears whenever a bunny came anywhere nearby. She still wasn't entirely sure where he was keeping his produce. And he looked happier. That was enough to keep her calling out for more marks- _mammals_. More mammals. To have fun.

* * *

Nick was in a great mood. He'd worked small crowds, teased Judy a little, and had won over little hearts throughout the village with some not-so-dishonest tricks from a not-so-honest past. He and Judy had abandoned their little table and were now wandering between the various stalls. He'd bought Judy a honey-glazed carrot from a stall that belonged to a sweet sixty-something vixen who apparently grew all of her own vegetables and fruits, trying to be self-sufficient. From the way Judy had been munching on it, it looked like she could have given the Hopps family a run for their money.

Nick's smile had faltered slightly at the sight of Simon Renner operating a 'test your strength' machine, slapping a mallet against his open paw. Michael the giant rabbit loomed nearby, evidently being marketed as some sort of champion to be beaten. Either that, or to stop any accusations of cheating. Nick looked away, refusing to let his mood be spoiled. He looked down at a stall being run by Frank and Mary, who he had almost walked past. He gave the badgers a wide smile and winked at Mary, reaching across the counter and pulling a dollar bill from her ear. Frank gave a chuckle and Mary gave a rather soft glower of disapproval but took the money anyway, Nick plucking a skewer of fried crickets from their display and winking at her. Frank laughed harder.

"Hey Carrots," he said, jogging a couple of steps to catch up with her. She had continued walking while he was distracted, but had stopped now and was watching something. "What's got your eyes?"

He followed her gaze. At the stall he had visited before and gotten her carrot, the vixen was talking with a rabbit. A rabbit wearing a small hat. And whatever the pair were talking about, it was a hushed conversation if ever Nick had seen one; the vixen was leaning down and the bunny, Tim Messenger, was looking around furtively. Nick's eyes widened a little and he sought out Renner. The fox, he saw, was practically glaring at the conversation that he and Judy were watching.

"Judy... I think we had better go and find someone. I have a really bad feeling about this."

Judy nodded. "I'll go see if I can find Tusker. You keep an eye on things here."

Nick let her walk away; he was proud to see she looked casual and cool as a cucumber. He played his own part, stepping out of the centre of the little pathway between stalls he was in and making an effort to look interested in the nearby wares. Messenger and the vixen stopped talking, the conversation over it seemed, and Nick could feel his heart start racing as Messenger looked around, gave a jump as he caught sight of Renner's glare, and then fix his eyes right on Nick himself. Nick groaned as the bunny came straight for him, ears bouncing. The earnest look on Messenger's face didn't help matters.

"Officer Wilde," the bunny began, "I really need to speak to you and Officer Hopps."

Nick put an arm around Messenger's shoulders, drawing him close and turning to shield the conversation from Renner's eyeline. Nick could almost feel that gaze burning into his shoulders. "Mr Messenger, if you'll forgive the saying, I'm all ears."

Messenger shook his head violently. "No, no, not here. I'm not sure who is involved. Meet me around the side of the church at three; everyone will be busy with the raffle draw."

Before Nick could say anything else, Messenger was gone. The bunny took off at a hurried pace, far quicker than Nick could follow at without drawing stares. He plastered a smile back into place, acting as though he had just had a friendly word with the reporter.

Judy appeared by his side silently, still nibbling the last of the carrot. "I found Tusker. He's off-duty; Saxon and Lyle are out in uniform and I alerted them. They're keeping an eye out just in case. Renner doesn't look happy at all. Why's he glaring at us?" she said.

Nick laughed and did his best to keep his expression of good cheer. "Because Messenger just came up, told me he wants to talk to us both by the side of the church at three, and that he 'doesn't know who else is involved'. We're sitting on a whole powder keg of madness here, Judes."

Judy dropped the carrot. "Holy mother of Easter. That-"

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the whine of a speaker humming to life, the microphone it was attached to feeding back the noise in an ever-diminishing way until it became silent. "Would Officer Nicholas Wilde, that's Officer Nicholas Wilde, please join us on stage to announce the winners of the raffle." came the amplified voice, Nick and Judy locking eyes.

"Go, Nick," she said, "keep an eye on Renner while you're up on the podium and I'll meet Messenger. Side of the church, exactly three. Go on, or if someone's going to make a move they might think something's up and rush it."

Nick nodded. He didn't like it, but what she said made sense. "Okay, Judes. Be careful, alright?"

"You know me, Nick; 'careful' is my middle name."

Nick scoffed. "It's pronounced 'Eileen', Hopps. Time to be good guys."

The pair parted, Nick jogging a little as he headed towards the stage and Judy meandering casually between the stalls, giving little compliments at the wares on display.

* * *

Nick reached the stage after circumventing the gathering crowd. He felt a little more at ease despite his concerns; he was the centre of attention and if there was anything he could do better than policework, it was work a crowd. He grinned widely and gave a wave to everyone as a round of polite applause faded into and out of existence. He shook paws with the priest who had acted as the announcer thus far and took his spot at the microphone.

* * *

Judy Hopps was careful. It had been many years since her leading role in the play that lead her to her current life. She disliked lying to anyone without a good reason and right now, an animal's life could hang in the balance. She acted a light-hearted and carefree rabbit, impersonating her seventeenth-oldest sister and practically floating from stop to stop. She made her way to the stalls and tables at the very edges of the festival before pretending to marvel at the church's architecture and slowly walking around the corner, out of sight. Once clear, she started jogging. The great wooden doors of the church were to her left, the festival behind her and around the corner. Messenger could only have meant to meet on the far side of the church and she spared a concerned glance at the clock face built into the steeple. If the ancient mechanism was to be trusted it was about a minute to three. She turned the corner and hoped that Messenger was punctual.

And that no-one else had gotten to him before her.

* * *

Nick awaited the result with baited breath. The priest was working the raffle machine, folded slips of paper within a wooden drum tumbling over one another for a few seconds before a small door was opened and a name retrieved.

Nick grinned. "Not long now, everyone. We'll see what's in store for a lucky few of you in a moment or two."

The first piece of paper was handed to him promptly and Nick unfurled it. He was proud of the way his voice remained level. "Timothy Messenger! Your number has come up!"

* * *

Judy heard the first deep _bong_ of the church chiming three. Of course Messenger would pick the furthest spot for her to reach without being seen. He might as well have been the embodiment of the 'skittish' part of her race's stereotype.

* * *

Nick swallowed as the second _bong_ rang out. "Tim, where are you buddy?" he said into the microphone. He knew all too well the bunny wouldn't be coming forward, but had to at least give the impression of trying.

Someone in the crowd decided to heckle. "It's alright, Tim would lose his head if it wasn't attached!" the unknown mammal called and a chuckle rippled through the ranks.

"Alright then, we'll move on I suppose. The next name is," he said, reaching out for the offered slip of paper. His mouth went dry. "Simon Renner. Simon, would you be so kind as to make yourself known please."

Another cry from the audience just as the third _bong_ happened. "I think I saw him skulking by the facilities if you catch my meaning. One of Joyce's pies, I reckon!"

Nick's eyes went wide in panic. Even the returning cry of "You cheeky little so-and-so!" couldn't distract him from the ice in his veins.

Then he heard a scream of absolute horror and he was leaping from the stage and sprinting before his mind could catch up and realise it was _Judy_ screaming.

* * *

Tim Messenger waited at the side of the church in a small alcove, hidden from view of the festival-goers and with only one nice, wide way in and out. He checked his watch for the fourth time in a single minute, foot thumping against the ground with nervous energy. He scanned the grounds before him for the sixth time in the last two minutes and checked his watch again.

He smiled in recognition as Judy Hopps jogged into view, stopping and meeting his eyes as she realised she had found him.

"Hey, Jude-" was as far as he got.

* * *

A figure in black jogged up the winding, ill-kept staircase in the church's depths. On and on the stairway went, eventually culminating in a narrow doorway that the figure shoved their way through. The light of the summer sun, just past it's highest point and beginning the slow crawl towards evening, beat down upon the roof of the church. The figure in black didn't even flinch at the change in lighting conditions, making for the edge and peering over.

The figure found the correct spot and reached out. Voluminous black sleeves covered the type of appendages the figure had, but whatever they were grasped the sides of a decorative piece of stonework that was crumbled at the base from the ravages of the weather and time. With a twist, the piece broke free and ground forward slightly. A shove and it moved closer to it's tipping point. A final push against the highest point and the displaced stone spire pitched over it's fulcrum.

Gravity did the rest.

* * *

Judy saw Tim Messenger and locked eyes with him. She took a step towards him, her ears perking as he began his greeting.

"Hey, Jude-" he said, before a piece of weather-beaten stone the colour of bleached sand landed on the topmost point of his skull and he... burst.

Judy stood frozen. There was a small puddle of fur, gristle and redness radiating out from a hunk of decorative stone that, until moments ago, had been a living and breathing creature.

She was still standing there when she felt paws grab her and spin her away from the sight. It was only then that she realised she was screaming... and that she was covered in what used to be Timothy Messenger.

* * *

Nick outpaced everyone, skidding around the corner of the church and leaving behind three of his claws. He didn't notice. He didn't have time to baulk at the sight of Judy; the casual jeans and light shirt she had been wearing covered in a mist-like spray of blood. Her face and ears were covered too. Her scream was never-ending, a sound that would probably haunt him forever. He didn't think twice as he grabbed his partner and spun her away from the scene that he refused to even contemplate right at this moment. He paid no attention to the way his clothes were now covered in the remains of Messenger, the same as hers, and he didn't care that she was screaming right in his ear so hard that he'd probably never hear that frequency of sound ever again.

Nick held her tight, and hoped that she would be alright.

* * *

Judy's voice finally failed and she looked around herself. To her right was a fuzz of light, orange red mixed with a sticky crimson something. She felt her mind shutting down and recognised she was about to pass out. She wondered at the odd sensation. She felt her knees turn to jelly but didn't fall, something keeping her upright. Probably the orange fuzz. She turned a little to the left and took in the sight of dozens of animals crowding around, most looking terrified. Four animals were turned towards the crowd, holding out paws and hooves in a pathetic attempt to hide something she knew was terrible from view. Her vision started to tunnel out and grey, and a low-pitched whine in her ears started to grow into a deafening roar. She managed to focus her hearing past the mumbles of nonsense coming from her right; the orange fuzz was saying something about being 'alright' and 'got you now' that made her heart warm. From the left, from one of the four animals, came a phrase that sent her into oblivion.

" _Stand back_ ," it said, " _there's been a terrible accident_!"


	8. Cut the Thread

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Nick had to hand it to Tusker; the warthog knew how to secure a scene. Nick could almost use the efficiency displayed as a way to excuse that the chief was refusing to see Tim Messenger's death as anything but an accident.

Almost. But not quite.

Given Judy's horrific experience and her loss of consciousness Nick had been hurried from the church yard to the nearby doctor's surgery. Nick supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to find that the coroner who had ruled the cause of death at George Merchant's home and the village sawbones were one and the same. The bespectacled hare had introduced himself as Doctor Simmons, taken one look at Judy's blood-soaked fur and clothing and had bounded off to fetch his assistant, a brown-furred doe-rabbit with a single silver loop piercing her left ear. The rabbit took Judy from Nick's arms and, in either a surprising show of strength for bunnykind or purely because Judy was so light, walked off with his partner in her arms to clean the unconscious doe up and give her a change of clothes. The doctor tutted loudly as he noticed Nick's feet bleeding onto the carpet from where his claws had ripped free and shepherded Nick into a chair. Nick spent the next few minutes having his paws dabbed with swabs and was forced to choke down a couple of painkillers. By the time Nick had finished grumbling Judy was returned to him, awake and clean this time, wearing some basic blue scrubs.

Nick threw a casual 'thanks' over his shoulder and took Judy's paw in his before leaving. Judy might have been awake, but her eyes were fixed on a distant horizon only she could see. Nick led her back to their hotel rooms and laid her in her bed, scrubs and all, tucking the covers around her before he gave her head fur a gentle stroke. She fell asleep in seconds.

Nick's gaze hardened and he left the room silently, calling into his own long enough to change into his uniform before he left to return to the church. The party was over; no more Mister Nice Fox.

* * *

Nick reached the church in minutes. Even with the relatively short time that had passed between when he left and now returned, Tusker had the scene blocked from view and the local officers were either taking statements, turning away anyone attempting to get a morbid eyeful or camera-shot, or eyeing the scene critically and trying to read deeper into the tragedy. Nick pushed past the large white tarpaulin that had been erected to hide Messenger's remains and cast his eyes about. The death was just as grisly and hard to stomach as when he first laid eyes upon it, only this time his gaze caught on details. A reporter's notebook, a piece of smaller masonry that had fallen at the same time, a tuft of clean fur... Nick felt himself snarl and turned away. This was no way to die.

He shoved the tarpaulin out of the way as he left, his mind whirling. He needed to be somewhere quiet to think this all through, and despite knowing he could be of use here he knew he wouldn't get a moment to himself. Nick faced forward and walked straight past his fellow officers and out, through the church gates and down the street.

* * *

Nick steepled his paws and rested his muzzle upon them, his elbows on the surface of a table. He was sitting in the Bushel Fields library, a rather undersized repository if he was entirely honest with himself, but it was quiet and anyone who looked his way wisely decided to leave him be.

 _Things are connected_ , he thought. _Merchant the magnate, Blower the Lawyer, Draper the actress, Messenger the reporter... that vixen from the festival. She might be the key. If Renner is who we're after then he knows that Messenger spoke with her. If it is Renner, he might get to her before I do. If it isn't Renner, then I could potentially tip off a murderer to his next victim._

Nick smirked to himself. Once a con-mammal...

 _Be smart, be silent, be slick. Be smart, be silent, be slick. Judy said Renner told her 'news travels fast'. If I ask too many questions, or ask them too straight, mammals will start talking and that makes someone dead. If I act too fast or too slow, that makes someone dead. If I don't watch our backs for us, me and/or Judy possibly end up dead._

 _Renner playing with fire near Merchant. Renner driving out of his way to see Blower and Drapers' corpses. Renner being conveniently out of the way when Messenger dies. Renner's not a smoker, I'd have smelled it long before now, so the fire was a deliberate taunt. He was with Merchant the night before he died, from the look of it he might have been plying the pig with booze... He dropped that comment about Romeo and Juliet, hinting that he knew who had died even before the information was released. It might have been Portillo, Judy said as much, but still... and today. Playing with the hammer and glaring daggers at Messenger. It's too much to be a coincidence. There's too much heat for him to make a move right now, not unless he's about to scurry off to a border, but that doesn't strike me as the type of fox he is. No... he wants to be_ here _specifically for some reason. He's got a long-term game plan._

Nick stood. He hated to do this, but duty called. It had to be done, and with Judy out of action he needed to tod up and do it. "Excuse me," he said loudly, gaining everyone's attention. The librarian, a stern-looking armadillo, gave him a withering look. "Sorry, but er... where can I find old newspapers?"

* * *

Nick photocopied pages of old editions of the paper from the last two years, focusing on any mentions of the victims, Renner and the vixen from the festival. He'd spent a small fortune in photocopy bills by the time he left the library two hours later, but he'd pieced together something he hoped would stand up to scrutiny. Merchant struck it rich by cornering the market on property development a few towns over and had chosen Bushel Fields as his home as well as his next project. Nothing concrete was in the papers, just hints that he had big plans. Blower and Draper were featured a little and not at all, respectively, outside of the announcements of their various plays and shows with the Amateur Dramatics Society. Messenger's name was all over, mainly because it looked like he was not only the only reporter working for the Bushel Fields newspaper, but because he was the editor as well. He might have even been printing the things in his house for all Nick knew; but the articles themselves... Messenger was like a wolf pup with a teething-ring. If it looked like there was something deeper, he would worry at it and dig until he struck gold. He had recently set his sights on Merchant, post-mortem, and Nick would bet his tail that the bunny had found something.

As for the vixen, Nick now had a name and a place to find her; Leslie Tiller, of Tiller's Garden Supplies.

Nick returned to the hotel with his sheaf of photocopies under one arm. The sky had grown dark and cloudy and rain threatened to fall at any minute. He entered the lobby and let his eyes adjust to the brighter light of the interior. The sow-otter he had enjoyed a crossword solution or two with was still in place behind the reception desk and looked to be working away at another puzzle. She looked up when Nick moved towards the stairs that led to his and Judy's rooms and she waved. "Officer Wilde," she said, picking up a scrap of paper and holding it out to him. "Willy Tusker came by and left a message for you."

Nick walked over and took the paper from her paw with a smile and a 'thanks'. He scanned the note quickly and his smile fell. He and Hopps had an extra two days to themselves; two days to get her over the death she had witnessed up close and personally, and then back to work.

Nick chuckled darkly. She'd be back up and running by tomorrow morning, ready to hunt for clues with him. _Never underestimate Hopps_ , he thought, then jogged up the stairs and locked himself in his room.

* * *

Judy was awake when he checked in on her a short while later. She knew that she must have looked terrible; she could practically feel the bags under her eyes and the concerned look Nick had given her when he opened the door to her room and popped his head through was more than enough to tip her off. She smiled at the fox in a way she hoped was reassuring. "I'm alright, Nick. That was... well. I wasn't expecting it this morning, that's for sure." she said, and gave him what she hoped looked like a smile instead of a grimace.

Nick shut the door and walked over. Under one arm he had a folder full of papers and Judy flinched slightly as he let his free paw drop onto her head heavily. She gritted her teeth as he ruffled her head fur a little, the side-to-side motion feeling equally comforting and annoying.

"First I pass out from shock and now you're _noogying_ me? That's just cruel."

The ruffling stopped. "Bit too close for comfort is all, Carrots. And I was petting you; there's a difference."

Judy squinted at him and the soft smile on his muzzle. It was just that little bit _too_ smug at the corners of his mouth. "Fine. More pad, less claw. And don't even think of saying the 'c'-word."

"If by the 'c'-word, you mean you expected me to call you 'cu-"

Judy smacked his paw away from her head lightly. "No 'press conferencing' your way into saying it, dumb fox."

"Alright, alright, fine." Nick groused, setting his paw back on her head and petting softly. Silence reigned for a few moments. "Long day, huh?"

Judy sighed. "Getting longer every minute. At least we can pretty much say for certain that someone is running around and murdering mammals in broad daylight... either that or we've both lost it and we needed this vacation more than even Bogo thought we did. What's with the folder, anyway?"

Nick's petting paused. "If I tell you," he said, the smirk practically audible, "then you really _would_ think we've lost it."

Judy huffed and reached out, snagging the folder and taking it from him. She flipped open the cover and flicked through the pages; highlighted passages from newspaper photocopies, photographs and passages from a tourism guide. "Nick," Judy said, looking back at the fox with wide eyes. "Did you... did you go to a _library_?"

Nick looked away sullenly. "You don't have to phrase it like I never read a book in my life, Carrots. I _can_ do paperwork and research, I just usually either never need to or you end up doing it for me because you think your chicken-scratch is more legible than mine."

"I'm impressed."

"It gets better; now I need to back this up, but I think possible motive is this rumour about a bypass road. There's been a few rumblings of people being unhappy about it in general; I mean, who wants a motorway next to their house, right? But it does bring a better access to other services and, oh I dunno... cheaper stores."

"Are you serious? I know Renner's our prime suspect in this, but do you really think the reason is as simple and flimsy as 'my customers are buying their ice-pops somewhere else'?"

Nick cleared his throat and wriggled his shoulders as he tried to imitate Renner's posture. Judy tried to stifle a laugh as Nick tried to imitate the voice that dripped with honey. " _Quite a few customers have been fickle little things and popped off to more distant pastures for their wares. May their heads be struck from their shoulders for their disloyalty_."

"Nick, he's a suspect and he's a creep, but that's no excuse to be mean. Who even talks like that?"

"I swear, Carrots, that's a word-for-word quote and the closest I can get to his voice without smoking three cigars first."

"Let's leave the impersonations to Michael Whineslow, huh?"

"Michael Whines- let me guess; the wolf from that cop comedy thing who does all the voices and sounds, right? I should make a note to tease you about watching those movies."

"You're the one that bought them for me!"

Nick held a paw over his chest and raised another, indicating he was making an important point. "Just because I have enabled you does not mean that I condone your actions."

"Jerk."

* * *

The plan was hashed out in detail; Judy would try and find any holes in Nick's current theory and continue researching in case she spotted something he had missed. Nick would carry on working as normal and give away no hint that he thought anything was amiss, or even that he knew of Leslie Tiller's involvement. After a few days he would approach Tiller under the guise of picking up a gift for Judy, some small token gesture to help cheer her up, meanwhile questioning her about whatever Messenger had shared with her in his final hour of life.

Things could not have gone more to plan, and yet so horrifically wrong.

* * *

Two days of boring patrols and paperwork later, Nick found himself outside of the quaint storefront of Tiller's Garden Supplies. Nick was dressed in his off-duty clothes, the only changes to his normal outfit of shirt, tie and slacks being that the shirt was long-sleeved and flannel; thankfully it wasn't pink like Judy's. Nick strolled up the street towards the glass-fronted store and nodded to himself when he saw movement inside. It seemed like the vixen behind the counter had noticed him too.

Nick smiled and raised a paw to give Leslie Tiller a short and friendly wave. "Hi there, Ms Tiller," he said to her through the closed door. "I was wondering, do you still have any of those carrots from the festival?"

"Oh yes, of course," the vixen said, twisting the lock and letting Nick inside. "I was just about to pop off. Would these be for you or for someone special?"

Nick's smile drooped slightly at the edges. Just enough for Leslie to notice, he hoped. "They're, ah... for someone special."

Leslie Tiller smiled serenely and let the door swing closed again, moving behind the counter-top and leaving Nick standing in the entranceway awkwardly.

Nick waited a few moments and looked around as Leslie pulled out a small cooler and put together a cardboard box. He needed an opening, a topic of conversation to broach the subject of Messenger or else this was all for nothing. The store, while well-stocked with gardening equipment that was unfamiliar to him, looked far too clean and ordered. A sign in the window caught his attention and he focussed on it. _Bingo_. "'Closing down sale'? Are you... going away somewhere, Ms Tiller?" Nick asked.

Nick did his best to keep himself from raising an eyebrow as the middle-aged vixen looked around, almost as if she was nervous. "I... yes. I'm moving away tomorrow morning."

"I see. And, um... why the move, if you don't mind me asking?" Nick said, a small friendly smile upon his face.

"Well," Leslie said as she loaded a pawful of carrots into the little box, "just between you and I... D'you know that 'fella what blew up?"

Nick's smile disappeared. "George Merchant." he said, putting his paws in his pockets.

"Well George Merchant, Saints rest him, wanted to buy this land so he sent his legal adviser Martin Blower, Saints rest him, and I thought I might take them up on it; I haven't really got any family around here, save for Cousin Sissy, so I thought I might take them up on the offer and move over to Wolford Abbey. Would you like a card with these?"

Nick's brain fumbled for a moment as he tried to process the abrupt switch in topic. Leslie was talking with an urgency that was sending alarms ringing in his head. "I, er, no card, thank you. Sorry, you were talking about the offer?"

Leslie leant across the counter and explained, talking quietly. "Well it turns out that Martin Blower, Saints rest him, knew where the new bypass road is going because he was having an affair with Evie Draper from the local Council, Saints rest her; and then that reporter, Saints rest him, found out about the route and told me this land is actually very valuable; about ten times what George Merchant and Martin Blower, Saints rest them, offered me. So, with them having passed on I decided to sell it on myself to some folks from the city that Martin, George and Evie, Saints rest the lot of them, were talking to. Apparently they want to build a big shopping mall or something, so of course Cousin Sissy won't be too happy about that... but as far as I'm concerned Cousin Sissy can go shove a shopping cart right up his-"

Nick held up a paw. "Would you just- erm, excuse me for just one second. I just need to... to make a call. I'll be right back."

Nick left Leslie Tiller wrapping a small ribbon around the box of treats and went outside, pulling his phone from his pocket and turning on the screen with a quick, practised swipe. He nearly cheered as it showed a single, six-pixel block in the signal indicator and quickly brought up Judy's hotel room number. He thumbed the green icon to start the call and turned on his heel to look back into the store.

Nick's phone fell from his hand and struck the paved street, a crack splitting the screen like a lightning bolt had earthed from the earpiece to the microphone. Judy's voice, distorted slightly, echoed from the device. _"Nick? Nick, how'd it go with Tiller? Can you hear me?"_

Leslie Tiller was impaled through the throat with a pair of large scissors, the very same ones she had just used to cut the length of violet ribbon Nick had requested she seal the box of carrots with. He goggled at the sight for what felt like minutes until movement caught his eye; Nick's head snapped around and took in the mammal in flowing black robes walking directly away from the still-screaming vixen. "Stop!" Nick yelled, barely realising he had done so. The figure stopped and turned their head, looking at him over their shoulder. Leslie Tiller, almost unnoticed by the two witnesses, slumped to her knees.

"You're under arrest!" Nick shouted. The figure took that as a cue to start running. Nick's right paw flicked and his police issue baton slipped from his sleeve, landing in his paw with a heavy slap of contact. He threw it and began running... straight at the glass door between himself and the murderer.

Glass shattered in a glittering arc as Nick's baton easily broke through, the shards in mid-air being redirected as his much larger body crashed through a moment behind it. The murderer had a small lead and Nick was not going to let them go without a fight.

The pair crashed through the store, shelves and equipment toppling as the figure in black threw things into Nick's path and he vaulted or skipped past them. Their mad dash took them out of the back door that was wide open, evidently the murderer's point of access, and through Leslie Tiller's greenhouses and plant nurseries. Nick skidded slightly as he ran around a corner and growled in frustration as he saw the figure had gained a few more metres in the few moments his eyes hadn't been on them. Nick pushed himself, giving an extra burst of speed and hurdling a table covered in pots of seedlings.

The murderer ran into a larger greenhouse and scrabbled slightly against the loose gravel coating the floor. The figure turned again, streaking through the central aisle and leaping as the pathway came to an end. The glass shell of the greenhouse was even thinner than that of the door Nick had broken through and smashed easily. Nick's eyes focussed on a flash of redness, a small hint of blood that had been left behind upon a sharp point, then returned to his pursuit. Nick jumped, his slightly smaller frame fitting easily through the hole in the greenhouse without getting sliced. He skidded on the grass slightly, his recent loss of foot-claws not aiding him. The large hedgerow in front of him was still shaking from the passage of his quarry and Nick ran up to a large gap. He froze before he jumped through and cocked his head in confusion. He could still see the murderer, running hard and fast... and so far ahead it was almost comical. He watched as the black-clad figure reached the hedge at the other side of the field and disappeared through the foliage, vanishing from sight like smoke in a breeze. Nick considered trying to catch up anyway, reaching out to grasp some of the thicker internal boughs of the large hedge before him, then stopped as his ears caught the sound of sirens. He sighed heavily, beginning to pant at the sudden exertion, then turned and trudged back to Leslie Tiller's corpse.

* * *

Nick stood near the dead vixen; he couldn't help but take in the way the small cardboard box that contained the honey-roasted carrots he'd gotten for Judy was spattered with soaked-in blood. The purple ribbon around it that matched Judy's eyes before was nearly black from absorbing the claret-coloured liquid. Nick felt oddly annoyed that he couldn't give them to her now.

"So... let me get this right," Portillo said, a paw under his muzzle. He was standing just behind Nick and was contemplating the scene laid out before him; Leslie Tiller's face frozen in horror at her demise, the scissors that impaled her throat, the box of carrots and the shattered glass from Nick's violent re-entry of the premises. "You're saying that this _wasn't_ an accident?"

* * *

Nick paced in the small space between desks in the Bushel Fields police station where he and Judy had first been introduced to the local officers by Chief Tusker. All of the officers, Tusker included, were present and staring at Nick. They looked at him like he'd strapped the sea mine to his back. "Carrots, would you be so kind as to put a few dollars in the swear-box for me?" he said through gritted teeth and felt his shoulders loosen slightly as a small jingling of change landing atop other coins rang out a moment later. "Thanks, Fluff."

Nick took a deep breath, counting to ten as he exhaled slowly.

It was time.

"Leslie Tiller was _rutting murdered_!" he screamed, all pretence of being calm vanishing.

Portillo, sitting at his desk with a look of confusion on his face, raised a paw. "Like George Merchant?"

"Yes." he and Judy chorused.

"Like Eve Draper?" one of the Andys' chimed in, sneering.

"Yes."

"Like Tim Messenger?" Doris asked.

"Yes!"

"Like Martin Blower?" Portillo asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the theory.

Nick turned to the leopard and rested a paw on his shoulder, smiling as he did so. "No, actually, Danny."

Portillo brightened for a moment, grinning widely and sitting up straighter. "Really?"

Nick grabbed pawfuls of Portillo's collar and lifted him bodily from his chair. Nick opened his muzzle wide and screamed again. "Of _course_ he was _rutting_ murdered as well!"

There was another jingle of coins. Nick dropped Portillo back into his chair and let his head hang low. "Thanks, Carrots."

One of the Andys' scoffed. "It's been murder this and murder that since you two got here. Change the rutting record, will you?" the rangy tiger said. Another small jingle of coins was heard. "Thank you, Andy."

Saxon leaned back in his chair a little. The usually silent wolf scratched the underside of his jaw with a claw. "I'm not so sure about this, Wilde. Maybe you and Hopps just have to accept it was just another, admittedly nasty, accident."

Nick stared at the wolf. Judy walked over to Nick's side and folded her arms. "What exactly are you suggesting, Saxon? That Leslie Tiller tripped and fell on her own scissors?"

"Mnfercher ferron izzone pihfurr tortha weeg." Lyle said. Judy and Nick turned as one to Saxon, who rolled his eyes. "Ben Fletcher fell on his own pitchfork the other week."

"Yeah," Doris said, "accidents happen all the time; what makes you both think it was murder?"

Nick slapped his paws against his cheeks and pulled downwards in frustration. "Because, Doris, I was _there_!"

The room went silent. The Andy closest to Nick and Judy narrowed his eyes. "There's a point." the tiger said, raising a paw and pointing at Nick. "You _were_ there. You two were the last to see George Merchant alive as well... and Tim Messenger. Why exactly were you there with Tiller, Wilde?"

Nick swallowed thickly. "I... I was buying some carrots for Judy." he said, flicking his gaze to the grey rabbit before looking back up. "She's been trying to get over what happened."

Judy blushed a little at the half-truth.

"What absolute rubbish." the other Andy sneered.

"Nick chased a suspect from the scene!" Judy said loudly. Everyone focussed on her and she narrowed her eyes. "Innocent mammals don't run."

"Maybe," Portillo said thoughtfully, "it was our old friend the Cactus Thief."

Doris snorted out a laugh. "Maybe. He was a prickly customer!"

Nick just stared at the chuckling officers. Judy glared at Portillo. "Did this Cactus Thief ever murder anyone?" she asked.

"Oh no," Portillo said, "but he did get caught. He stuck around too long one time."

Doris burst out in a full guffaw of laughter now. "I'll never forget that; a porcupine stuck to a tree by his quills and a bag full of cactuses next to him!"

Judy slapped a paw over her eyes and groaned. Nick's temper frayed further as everyone joined in with the humorous interlude and he found himself shrieking. "Am I going _completely_ mad?!"

The looks from everyone apart from Judy were pretty telling on what they all thought the answer was.

Tusker, who had been fairly silent until now, stood and put his hooves on his hips. "Wilde. Hopps. I think it's time we had a chat. My office, please."

* * *

The door to the office clicked shut and Judy found herself sitting on the slightly-too-large chair again, Nick by her side. Tusker walked past her and sat in his own chair. "Nicholas... Judy... what am I going to do with you both."

Judy spared a glance at Nick and saw something close to defeat in his eyes. She steeled herself and opened her mouth. "Sir, you have to understand-"

"No, Judy. _You_ need to understand. The officers here aren't used to the concepts that you and Nicholas are bandying about. The M-word, Judy; there hasn't been a recorded murder in Bushel Fields for over twenty years; barely even anything worse than the occasional theft or break-in."

"Sir," Nick said, his voice hoarse from the yelling. "I'm- _We_ are certain. And we know who did it."

Judy's eyes widened, as did Tusker's, and they both turned to stare at Nick in surprise.

"We do?" she asked, cringing at how doubtful she sounded.

Nick lifted his head and gave her a sly grin. His right paw plucked a small, orange, novelty carrot pen from his pants pocket and set it gently on Tusker's desk. "We do." he said, and tapped a button.


	9. A Family Matter

_EDIT: Cover art used with permission of the amazing Littleivy25, who can be found on DeviantArt-dot-com!_

* * *

Three cruisers in the livery of the Bushel Fields Police Department sped through the early evening, the lights flashing and their sirens wailing. In turn, they entered the abandoned parking lot of the local super-mart and skidded to a halt, doors slamming open almost before they had settled back onto their suspensions.

The occupants piled out almost as one; Chief Tusker led the way, slamming a hoof upon the glass door of the just-closed mart. The warthog wore a stormy expression and, upon the door's unlocking by a shop assistant, barged forward with urgency. If the tired-looking gazelle who had unlocked the door for him had looked surprised before, the veritable swarm of blue-clad officers who followed in Tusker's wake made her goggle in shock. All of them, without fail, wore that same serious expression on their faces.

And all of them were armed with tranquilizer pistols.

* * *

The group moved swiftly through the aisles and paused for no-one. Judy, jogging a little to keep up, took note of the animals they passed on their way. Three shop assistants, not including the gazelle from the doorway, watched with curious looks on their faces and whispered to one another as the officers passed. Next, Michael the rabbit who looked on with his glazed expression, followed swiftly by a pair of wolves who manned the vegetable deli. About the only mammal she hadn't seen yet was the one they had come for.

Tusker shoved the double doors that led to the back rooms of the store open and stalked forward. Lights could be seen down the corridor from a small office and a shadow flitted about inside. Judy felt her heart begin to race as the confrontation drew near, and despite herself she rested a paw on the grip of her tranq-gun.

The door to Simon Renner's office burst open, practically coming off of it's hinges. Renner was sitting behind his desk with his feet up, relaxing after an apparently long day. The grin on his face made it look like he had been expecting the interruption.

The officers filed in behind Tusker, taking up positions around the room and standing at the ready. They were back-up, even Tusker, and the show was about to begin.

Nicholas P. Wilde, dressed in full uniform, stepped through the door and kicked it shut behind him. He stepped into the very centre of the room and motioned for Judy to join him from the sidelines. She stepped up, glaring at the smug-looking fox they had come to see, and grinned.

Renner smiled widely, as if an old friend had come to visit, and looked into each officer's eyes in turn. "My my my, if it isn't the _Fuzz_ ," he said, "what can I do for Bushel Fields' finest this evening?"

"Simon Renner, you are under arrest for the murder of Leslie Tiller-" Nick said, being interrupted by Renner's smile dropping from his face and a look of concern taking it's place.

"Cousin Leslie is dead?!"

"-as well as the suspected murders of George Merchant, Martin Blower, Evelyn Draper and Timothy Messenger." Nick finished.

"But... but they all died in accidents, Officer Wilde. And now you're telling me Cousin Leslie is dead too? How? When?"

Judy glared at the fox. "About two hours ago, Mr Renner; _someone_ stabbed her with a pair of scissors. We believe you already know this, having performed the deed yourself."

"I- This is ridiculous. Two hours ago? I was _here_ two hours ago! I've been here since I opened at eight in the morning. There are security tapes!"

Nick nodded once. "And we'll be sure to check them thoroughly. As of right now, we have motive for all of their murders, as well as a mountain of things that make you our prime suspect. Threatening Eve Draper, comments about murdering customers for disloyalty, driving miles out of your way to visit a crime scene that you showed surprising insight into, considering the victims were not named publicly until a day later. About the only thing we are waiting for is the final piece of evidence to put you at the scene of the crime... and we're about to get it. _Cousin Sissy._ "

Renner's eyes widened. "Now you see here-"

Judy hopped up onto the table next to Renner's feet and grabbed his ankles before he could move them. "Just stay still please, Mr Renner; we just need to have a look at your legs."

"This is outrageous-"

"And will be over soon. Nick?"

Nick darted forward and pulled Renner's trouser legs up, revealing the red and black fur leading down to the older fox's feet.

Nick picked up Renner's legs one by one and twisted slightly, trying to see all angles. He pushed the suit trousers higher, up to Renner's knees, and tried again, all the while the older fox ranted about abuse of authority. Judy tried to tune it out, but as Nick became more frantic in his searches...

Nick looked at Judy with wide eyes, his neutrality lost in the face of what he was... and wasn't... seeing. "Judy," he said, his voice quiet, "there's not a scratch on him."

* * *

Renner exploded, pulling his feet from Judy and Nick's grips before standing. "I have _told_ you _miserable_ flatfoots this already, _twice_! I have been _here_ , in my _store_ , since _eight_ in the morning; I have security cameras on all of the aisles with time-stamps that _cannot_ be altered, and despite this you _still_ decide you can treat me like some _criminal_?"

Nick was frozen. "I- we..."

"You had best untie that tongue of yours _right now_ , pup, in case that apology you owe me comes out wrong."

"Mr Renner-" Judy said, freezing as a furious Renner shoved a claw right in front of her nose.

"You shut your mouth, you mouthy little _Lucky Charm_ before I shove you in a box and put you in the toy aisle. I am _talking_ to this insolent little whelp and when _he_ has apologised, _you_ can help stop him from tripping over the tail between his legs."

Renner wheeled back to Nick, eyes glinting dangerously. "Out with it," he growled out, "before I turn your friend here into a pair of keychains."

Tusker took that as his cue to step in. "ENOUGH, all of you! Mr Renner, you have the profuse apologies of myself _and_ all my officers. We have evidence that gave you motive and placed you at the scene of the crime where, earlier today, Ms Tiller was indeed murdered. I am sorry that you had to hear about it this way, but you must understand that we had probable cause and it is a serious allegation. I would thank you to calm yourself and refrain from any physical violence against my officers else we might have to arrest you on an entirely unrelated charge. Wilde, Hopps, get out of the way. And shut your mouths."

Nick stopped gaping and fighting for words, lowering his head and stepping back against the wall. Judy followed a moment behind and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach... and the little voice in the back of her head telling her she and Nick might very well have just signed their dismissal papers.

"Tusker- William, this is absolutely infuriating-"

"I know, Simon. And I have apologised. If you have evidence then we would very much like to see it so we can clear your name. There is a process to be followed here, regardless."

Renner growled and turned on his heel. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard sitting in front of his little bank of monitors and navigated a menu. A few taps later and the footage throughout the day was speeding past, clearly showing a fox in a crisp suit moving from aisle to aisle, greeting and chatting with customers; all except a single fleeting hour between twelve and one where he was seen to purchase something from his own ready-to-eat section and disappear into a room labelled 'staff'. "Satisfied?"

Tusker nodded gently. "Very much so; thank you, Simon. If you'll please excuse us for a moment, I believe I have to have a quick impromptu debrief."

The warthog turned on his heel. "Out; all of you. Wilde, Hopps, wait outside the door. The rest of you can head back. Leave one of the cruisers for us."

There was a mumble of 'yes sir' as the officers filed out as efficiently as they had entered. Nick and Judy stepped aside once they had left the room and awaited judgement. It didn't take long.

* * *

"You two feel pretty low right now, I'd imagine," Tusker said quietly after closing the door to seal Renner off from the conversation. "You had a lead and we ran with it out of trust; you both allowed the desire for this murderer to be Renner to get to you and you have now burned yourselves on that. I hope that you will use this as a learning experience. Tomorrow morning I will be sending word to Chief Bogo that you are both suspended, effective as of Monday coming."

Judy nodded once at the verdict but Nick sneered. "Sir, this was all my theory," he said, "punish me for it but don't let this drop on Judy as well."

Judy punched Nick in the arm. "You _stupid_ \- Sir, we _both_ thought it was Renner. And the two of us, being _adults_ and capable of making _our own decisions_ will accept that."

Tusker shook his head sadly. "I am sorry. You've both left me with little choice in the matter and while I would have looked the other way in any other circumstances... I'll be waiting out in the car. I believe you both have an apology to deliver."

* * *

The door to Renner's office creaked open and Judy walked in. The fox had shed his suit jacket, loosened his tie a little and rolled his sleeves up. "Mr Renner?" she said, hesitating slightly in the doorway.

Renner turned from where he was stood, going from watching the camera feeds of the car park to glaring at the rabbit intruding into his office. "Officer Hopps. Come in. Close the door behind you."

Judy did as asked, approaching the desk. Renner leant over it, the muscles in his forearms making the fur move slightly as they tensed. Judy resisted the urge to shiver. Renner spoke quietly and quickly, a hint of a growl in his voice. "Zootopia's first rabbit officer. I am not going to listen to you give me an apology, _fluffy_ , because as you have probably figured out I don't particularly care to conduct discourse with animals that, should history have unfolded differently, would be _sitting on my plate_. I don't care if you like me, or even if you know that the feeling is mutual. You have caused me a rather large upset and I am not in the mood to hear the slightest squeak from you. Get out, and send in the walking rug."

Judy turned and left in silence. Beneath her poker face she seethed with fury. _Misogynistic, speciest_ \- "Officer Wilde, Mr Renner would like to see you."

Nick raised an eyebrow at the venom in Judy's tone then schooled his face into neutrality once again. He entered the room and, after sparing a glance to make sure Judy was walking away down the corridor, clicked the door shut and stood at-ease in front of Renner's desk.

"Nicholas Wilde," Renner said, sneering at Nick. "What a proud moment it must have been, becoming the first fox officer of the ZPD... then being leashed to a _rabbit_."

"Mr Renner, you have asked for apologies from myself and my partner. I will give you my apology, however it will only be when you are quite finished inferring that Officer Hopps is somehow lesser because of her species... and if you continue down that particular course of discussion then you will find out very, very swiftly exactly what I believe an _abuse of authority_ actually involves."

Renner barked out a laugh and walked around his desk. Nick's hackles rose and he fought to stop his lips pulling back to reveal his teeth. The older fox stopped, almost nose-to-nose with Nick, and glared hard. "Officer Wilde, did you just threaten me with police brutality, not ten minutes after you have accused me of murder?"

"I don't threaten, Mr Renner. Promise, on the other hand... I can do that."

Renner gave a low growl and bared his teeth. Nick did likewise and felt time slow to a crawl, his heartbeats echoing in his ears with what felt like an eternity between them, even though he knew it must have been moments.

Simon Renner stopped growling first. "You sicken me, pup. I can only imagine what a nightmare you must have been for your poor mother."

Nick growled hard and took a step forward, his nose pressing against Renner's and forcing the older fox back. "You leave my mother out of this or I swear to the Gods I will _bury_ you so deeply that even a wolf couldn't dig your bones up."

Renner shoved him backwards. "If I want to talk about Vivian I _rutting well will_ , Piberius!" he roared.

Nick fell, tripping at the sudden push and falling to the floor. His head impacted against the door, rattling it in it's frame and making him see stars. Nick's eyes were wide with horror. Time's journey through molasses had ended and now his heart felt like it was beating so fast in his chest it might explode. Nick took in the sight of Renner standing above him, tall and huffing in anger and something clicked into place.

Nick's eyes grew wider and his blood turned to ice in his veins. "Oh sweet cheese and crackers; no. No, no-no-no, please, no..."

Renner took a deep breath and calmed himself. He looked at the floor for a moment, then looked back right into Nick's eyes. Light green met dark jade and Nick's throat went dry. Renner closed his eyes and lowered his head again before uttering the single word that would change Nick's life forever.

"Yes."

* * *

Judy and Tusker had been in the car together for close on ten minutes when Nick emerged from the store. He looked haggard, like he'd gone ten rounds with McHorn, and climbed into the car in silence. The air in the vehicle, which had already been frosty with Tusker being angry, took on all the cheer of a mausoleum. The trio pulled away in silence, leaving the dark parking lot at a much more gentle pace than they had entered it.

And observed by a middle-aged fox, watching from a darkened window.


	10. One Wilde Night

_Well, earlier today I noticed that a wonderful piece of fan-art had been produced thanks to the Predditors over at the Zootopia subreddit. This fan-art was made by one Littleivy25, who can be found over on DeviantArt-dot-com. I asked permission to use Littleivy25's image as the cover for this story and Littleivy25 agreed; you may well notice that there's a credit at the top of every page now (albeit a bit shorter than this one). I hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

Judy and Nick were transported to the station in almost complete silence. Judy had turned to look at Nick once or twice during the trip, even opening her mouth to speak once, but the words froze in her throat. Nick's expression was a carefully crafted neutral but the slight crinkle of flesh around his eyes and the angle of his ears practically screamed despondency to someone who knew him well enough.

Having worked together for so long, Judy knew Nick well enough.

The journey ended with as much pomp and circumstance as their arrival in Bushel Fields; a slight downpour about to start and a sour mood in the air. Judy entered the station and made her way to the females locker room, changing quickly and heading back to reception. The wolf behind the desk looked up for a moment from his novel, gave a grunt of acknowledgement, then returned to reading.

Nick arrived a few minutes later, still looking like he'd been beaten. Judy frowned when her partner didn't even look at her, let alone speak, and followed him as he trudged outside.

Rain spattered down upon Judy. It probably looked worse outside than it was; the droplets were swollen and fat and came steadily, but were spread over a large enough area that she remained mostly dry. "Nick?" she said, hoping against hope her friend would at least notice her... and let her in.

Nick stopped walking; he stood a few feet from her and looked over his left shoulder at Judy. "Carrots... Judy, I..." he said, then swallowed hard and turned to face forward once again. "I just need a bit of time to myself, is all. Today was rough, huh?"

Judy felt her throat tighten. "Yeah, rough's the right word... are you sure?"

Nick looked over his shoulder again, a small smile upon his face. "You know me, Hopps... bouncier than you are. I'm gonna go for a walk, maybe find a bridge or something. You just... head back to the hotel and relax. I've got some stuff to work through."

Nick didn't wait for an answer; he just started walking away.

Judy gave him a few seconds head-start then set off towards the hotel, and her heart broke; not even the rain could hide his tears from her.

* * *

Judy sat in her hotel room a short while later. The rain had eased slightly and then stopped, typically, as she got to the front door of her lodgings. She had frittered away the last hour, moving around idly and tidying a few odds and ends away in the hopes she would hear Nick come 'home'. The house-plant she had brought with her, a Spathiphyllum Cochlearispathum that she had picked up to give her something to grow that wasn't painfully stereotypical. Also, as it turned out, anything even coming close to being classified as a herb would wither and die regardless of what she tried, so that limited her options even further.

Judy's ears perked at the sound of footfalls in the corridor outside, slow and steady. They stopped outside of her door. Judy was on her way to the door in an instant. She grinned and grasped the handle, then flicked the lock open and pulled. "Nick!" she said, her chirpy greeting full of relief.

Judy reflected, as she found herself flying through the air, that perhaps the giant figure in black robes was _not_ Nick. The solid back-paw that had slammed into her ribcage thankfully hadn't winded her, but the impending strike with the-

Judy's small grey body slammed into the picture hung above her bed with a resounding thud, glass chiming in counterpoint as it shattered.

\- wall probably would. Judy landed on the bed and gasped hard, trying to suck air back into her lungs. She scrabbled backwards to put a pathetic amount of distance between her and her assailant in order to take stock of the situation. The attacker's reach, however, made a mockery of her attempts. Judy was hoisted into the air by a pawful of her shirt. The black-robed figure held her in front of it's face and raised their other paw to strike down hard, breaking her neck in one blow.

As she had underestimated her attacker's reach, so they had underestimated hers.

Judy's powerful hind legs struck out as fast as if they were spring-loaded and slammed into the figure's face. The figure's head rocked back with the force of the blow and they faltered for a moment. Judy heard a dangerous growl issue from the hood and the attacker's anger got the better of them. They brought Judy closer, still holding her by her shirt, as if to end her using their still-hidden mouth; Judy grabbed the attacker's concealing hood and pulled it hard to the right.

She fell and landed heavily, bouncing to her feet and hopping back as the figure, their vision now obscured because _seriously, who wears a hood that restrictive_ , flailed for a moment, grunting and growling before freeing themselves and dispensing of the garment.

Judy's mouth fell open in shock. " _Michael?!_ "

The huge rabbit, revealed following the shedding of the hood, looked at Judy and blinked. "Yarp?"

"What- I... How is it _you_? We thought it was Renner!"

Michael grinned; a dangerous, predatory grin that had no place on a bunny's face... except Judy's. "Yarp."

Before Judy could even try and figure things out she had to leap backwards and crashed awkwardly into her bedside table in order to avoid a paw that was almost as big as she was. It seemed that the fight had begun in earnest... but now Judy could fight back.

The hardest part of any fight was, of course, your opponent. Major things like their reach, their speed... and in Zootopia, which kind of animal they were. Judy had fought, and beaten, wolves, rhinos, tigers, even a fox once in the ring at the academy and out on the streets.

Judy had precisely one hundred and sixty-two brothers and one father, all of whom rough-housed often. She might have trained to fight other mammals, but she was practically _raised_ to fight bunnies, no matter how big they were.

Judy kicked off, her legs propelling her high-and-right; she pulled her legs forward and rebounded from the wall, her point of impact-and-redirect swiftly obliterated by a paw that thundered through the plaster and gave an uncomfortable flashback to the freight train she and Nick had narrowly avoided long ago. Michael roared in frustration as he swung at Judy again and again, the smaller grey doe bounding about the room and narrowly avoiding each swipe and blow. Judy saw opportunity and danced inside Michael's superior reach; she slammed her feet down and rocketed upwards, forepaws outstretched in little fists that struck him on the chin. Michael's jaw clacked shut, his teeth crunching together painfully. As he recoiled and gravity reasserted it's hold upon her, she kicked out and used his face like a spring-board; the second impact shook Michael enough to make him stumble back a few steps, and Judy landed softly next to what looked like the only intact object in her room.

Judy cringed at what she was about to do.

"Hey, big'un!" she yelled as she grabbed her beloved plant and hefted it in both paws. Michael shook his head, his eyes glazed from the multiple impacts to his skull, and focussed on her once again.

"Give Peace a chance!"

The Spathiphyllum sailed through the air, the pot surprisingly aerodynamically stable over such a short distance. The red ceramic struck Michael across the bridge of his twitching nose and smashed; the kilo of soil behind it obeyed Newton's laws. Force transferred, potential energy finding it's release in the form of Michael's brain shuddering back and forth inside his skull, and caused an almost instantaneous knock-out.

Judy sagged to her knees as Michael fell to the floor, out cold. She panted and gasped for breath and tried to ignore that all of her cleaning for the past hour-and-some had been completely undone by the assault. "Nicholas-" she said, panting between words, "- Piberius Wilde... I... am going... to _murder_ you... for this..."

A burst of static issued forth from somewhere underneath Michael's robes and Judy pounced upon it. She dug within the folds for a moment and felt something solid; she struggled for a moment to free it from the pocket it was held in and gave a little cheer as she finally touched bare plastic. The radio, now in her paws, crackled once again before a voice broke the airwaves. "Michael?"

 _Renner_! Judy raised the radio to her mouth and took a breath, then paused. Her mind raced for a moment and she nodded to herself, then keyed the transmit button. "Yarp?" she said, cursing herself and thumping a foot in frustration. She'd made her voice as deep as she possibly could, but there was no feigning the deep, bass rumble of Michael's voice.

"Michael! Good. You sound like that bunny hit you in the nose... is it broken?"

Judy nearly dropped the radio. "Y'know, Renner, for a fox you really are _dumb_ , sometimes..." she muttered to herself, then keyed the radio again and rumbled "Yarp."

"But you beat her?"

"Yarp."

"And she isn't going to get up again?"

Judy froze. She licked her lips and looked at Michael's unconscious body. "Uh... Narp?"

"... Good."

Judy dropped the radio and scrabbled to pick it up again.

"Put her in the sack I gave you then bring her to the church. It's time we dealt with this once and for all."

Judy tossed the radio aside and hopped to her feet. She shuffled around the room and grabbed her baton, slipping it into a pocket, then retrieved her phone. She tapped the speed-dial and was disappointed to hear Nick's voicemail answer rather then the fox himself after a few seconds. "Nick, it's me. Renner's behind everything after all, and I know why he wasn't sliced up. There's more than one murderer, Nick! I'm heading to the church to cuff him. Meet me there, okay? Oh, and call Tusker. No time to waste." she said then clicked the red symbol to end her call. Without as much as a backwards glance at the prone Michael, she ran from the hotel room and headed towards the church.

* * *

Nick knew he shouldn't have listened. The honeyed words that fell from those lips were a poison he couldn't bear to imbibe, but by the same token he needed to hear them like a drowning mammal needed oxygen. His shoulders were slouched and he padded slowly through the streets of Bushel Fields, wandering almost aimlessly for the moment. He was glad for the rain... it meant Hopps wouldn't see him cry.

As he passed beneath a streetlight he heard Renner's voice echo throughout his head. He looked up, eyes closed so tightly colours burst in star-patterns beneath the lids... and howled.

" _If I want to talk about Vivian I rutting well will, Piberius!"  
_ " _Yes."  
_ " _Simon George Renner. 'Sissy' because I dreamed of running to the big city and becoming a fashion designer... a dream we nearly made come true, Piberius..."_

Nick started to run, claws digging into the flesh around his skull as if he could relieve the mounting pressure inside by piercing his skin.

" _Your mother was amazing, Piberius... I named you after my father, and she named you after hers. She was light and life and beauty... and far too precious."_

Nick's run became a sprint.

" _You were young, pup. Maybe four or five; young enough to remember me roughly but not enough to remember details. I had been making money as best I could... dishonestly, of course, because how else could a fox even begin to survive legitimately in that cesspit of utterly pathetic vermin."_

Nick stumbled and slapped a paw to the ground to help recover. An awkward three-legged run for a step and then he found his stride again.

" _Some mammals, Piberius... they didn't much care for a fox-skulk near their homes. Some of them came with gasoline and tried to burn it down... I_ educated _them on the errors of their ways, Piberius... and when Vivian tried to stop me..."_

"No!" Nick wailed to the deserted streets of the hell that the already-awful village had become.

" _I educated her."_

Nick stopped running and fell to his knees. His scream was filled with rage and horror.

" _Of course, after that... well, I knew we couldn't carry on. I was... changed, Piberius. I wasn't going to even begin to try and rationalise my behaviour so I left. Your mother raised you and I came here... gave up on my dreams and my family and a thousand other things because I destroyed the love of my life while trying to protect her. Oh, I know she's still living in our home and she's happy now... she survived. You survived."_

Nick curled up on himself, a red ball of drenched fur and soaked clothing that shuddered on the path as his sobs wracked his body.

" _Cousin Leslie helped me get on my feet... I got an honest job here, thanks to the efforts of, well, all concerned parties. I even assisted when called upon. You see, Piberius... we're trying to build a new world, here. And it's been wildly successful... I want to show you exactly how successful. A new start for father and son."_

Nick's sobs increased in strength and he gave a final scream of denial.

" _And if you don't help me..."  
_ " _I know where Vivian is."  
_ " _And I will finish what I started all those years ago."_

Unnoticed by the fox, the phone in his pocket rang and went unanswered.

* * *

Judy crept forward towards the doors to the church. One was slightly ajar and a weak light flickered within. As Judy got closer, sidling up against the wood, she heard voices echoing in hushed synchronicity.

 _Bonum... Commune... Communitatis... Bonum... Commune... Communitatis..._

Judy grasped the handle of her baton tightly and stepped through the door. She flicked the baton to full extension and raised it threateningly above her head. "Freeze!" she yelled, then realised she might have finally bitten off more than she could chew.

The chant had ceased immediately upon her entry and dozens of eyes became fixed on her. She knew every single face. How could she not?

They were friends and acquaintances that she had dealt with from the moment she and Nick had arrived in Bushel Fields. Frank and Mary. Simon Renner. Father Derringer. The deer from the shop she'd never learned the name of. Ms Woodwarren the teacher... even Doctor Simmons. And they were all wearing black robes.

Renner started clapping slowly, standing from his seat at the head of the gathering. "Well, well... isn't she _tenacious_ , Dee?"

"Positively, Simon." said Ms Woodwarren, the doe-rabbit pulling a pistol from the folds of her robes and aiming it squarely at Judy.

Judy dropped the baton and raised her paws into the air.

"I have to say, Miss Hopps... I am quite surprised. I dare say we all are. Michael has never failed to come through before. I trust he made an impression on you?"

Judy scoffed. When in trouble; channel Nick. "He made an impression on my wall when I smashed his face into it." she said snarkily, giving a smirk filled with self confidence she wished she actually felt.

Renner chuckled. "No matter. I suppose you'd like to have me explain everything, our motives and such like some sort of pathetic cliché?"

Judy rolled her eyes. "If you want to, I guess. Just do me a favour and try and keep it short, okay?"

"Gladly. We kill mammals who try and ruin this utopia. You are one of them."

"... That was less than twenty words. I'm impressed."

Judy's grin became a little wider as Renner growled. "We're just working for the greater good of the community." he said, leaning forward across the table slightly as he did so.

Judy's eyebrow raised as the assembled mammals echoed Renner's words with a monotone chant of 'the greater good'. "I seriously hope you aren't trying to expound on that."

"Wilde's theory was brilliant... inspired, even. But he thinks too hard."

"Oh, you are going to keep talking" she muttered to herself, making sure it was clear enough for Renner to hear. "I know," she continued brightly and loudly. "Let me take a wild guess; you killed Messenger for being annoying, Blower and Draper because of the play and their general personalities, and Merchant because his house was a bit garish. I'm not sure about Tiller, but if I had to guess... great gardener, taking her green paws with her when leaving town so you killed her... or just a loose end who squealed. The greater good of the utopia, right?"

Renner stared at her as the other mammals chanted their 'the greater good' again. "I... Yes. How-"

Judy laughed. She pointed to herself and then Renner in turn. "Smart bunny, dumb fox. Dumber than I'm used to dealing with, anyway. If it wasn't the pretty much _perfect_ motive we worked out for you and _all of these mammals_ are involved, it would have to be something so utterly asinine and insane as that..."

Judy felt some satisfaction as Renner glared at her. Maybe _this_ was why Nick was such a smart-mouth to Chief Bogo? It actually felt... fun. Judy was brought solidly back to the present as a tiny click echoed through the church; the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a pistol. The pistol that was currently still levelled at her chest.

Renner sat back down. "As amusing as this appears to have been for you I'm afraid your reprieve is at an end." he said, waving a paw dismissively. The fox lifted his head slightly, looking at something behind and above Judy. "Take her to the catacombs and do what needs to be done, please."

Judy felt powerful paws of differing sizes grab her shoulders; she glanced right and found Michael's bruised and bloodied face, still covered with a small amount of soil, glaring at her. She glanced left to assess the mammal there and froze.

"Nick?" she said, her voice tiny. Her partner was looking directly into her eyes without an expression on his face.

She felt the paws on her shoulders grip harder.

"Nick what are you doing? We've got to stop them, Nick. Let me go."

Judy felt her shirt dig into her armpits as the fox and the bunny began to lift her from her feet.

"Nicholas Wilde, I swear, if you lift me up even one centimetre more, I am not going to be held responsible for what happens to your face."

Judy's slow rise into the air stopped.

"Good, now-"

And then began again.

Judy brought her left paw up and across her body. She took a tight hold of Michael's wrist-fur and swung her legs back towards the doorway. Her lower half swung forward again like a pendulum and she pulled Michael's wrist as she did so. Michael, an immovable object if ever there was one, instead became a solid perch.

For about the fifth time in the last hour, Judy Hopps' hind legs smashed into Michael's face and rocked his head back on his shoulders. The twist-pull-kick made the giant bunny let go of her shirt and, without his grip holding her back, she rocketed head-first towards Nick.

Judy would always remember the choked noise he made at that moment as her right elbow, with her full body weight behind it, impacted against his nose. His snout acted as a fulcrum, her body spinning over his forehead and rotating a full three times before she landed in a perfectly executed tuck-and-roll, pushing off almost as soon as she had landed to sprint out of the door of the church.

* * *

Nick got to his feet and whimpered slightly at the stinging numbness that used to be his nose. He looked at Renner and gave a little shrug. "She's... she's _very_ good at punching and kicking things."

Simon Renner slapped a paw over his eyes and groaned. "Oh for the love of- just get her, will you?"

* * *

Judy raced through the grounds of the church, running hard for the hedge at the end of the graveyard. If she could make it through there and to the nearby undergrowth of the woods she could bide her time and make her escape. Her feet slapped against the soft dirt, slipping slightly in the mud from the recent rainfall.

Then the ground disappeared from beneath her.

Judy landed heavily before she had time to realise she was no longer on solid ground. She scrambled to get upright, hearing panting breaths and running feet draw closer above her. She didn't have anything approaching night-vision like Nick or a lot of predators, but she did have a small torch attached to her keychain. She fumbled with the jingling metal, cursing as she did so, and turned on the beam.

A dessicated wolf skull gazed back at her and she jumped away from it in terror. She couldn't help but notice, as she stifled her scream on her free paw, that it was wearing a ZPD uniform.

"She's in the catacombs!" she heard Nick yell from above. The chase was back on and she had no choices remaining. Judy clambered to her feet and began running once again.

Her way lit by the torch revealed things she could have gladly lived without; corpses as far as she could see. The youths she and Nick had cautioned on their first day, Arthur Webley, the shoplifter... even the Living Statue. Judy ran through cobwebs and pushed past skeletons, and eventually burst free of the underground nightmare. She ran straight into a living body and threw a wild punch, more to distract than do harm.

The body grunted as her small fist caught it in the stomach and Judy turned to continue her flight. "Hopps?" croaked the figure, and Judy stopped.

"Chief Tusker?"

The warthog coughed and stood up a little straighter. "Why on earth are you running about in the catacombs, Hopps? And why did you feel the need to hit me?"

Judy jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "Sir, I'm so sorry! We've got to get the other officers; Nick and I were right about Renner, but it's not just him! There's- Sweet Easter, Chief, _everyone_ seems to be involved in this! That's why Renner didn't have a cut on his legs."

Tusker cocked his head and grabbed Judy's shoulders. "Slow down, Hopps. What are you talking about?"

Judy's ears perked up. She could hear feet striking pavement, a lopsided _tack-fump_ letting her know that the mammal running towards her was Nick. "All the deaths _were_ murders, Chief. And it wasn't just Renner; almost every mammal in- the... village... Chief?"

William Tusker, Chief of the Bushel Fields Police Department, tightened his grasp on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry about this, Hopps. It is, after all, for the greater good..."

* * *

Judy reflected, as she felt Tusker's jaw break beneath the impact of her strong back legs, that pretty soon her pursuers would figure out to _not_ try and capture her with their paws but actually try tranq-guns or a net... maybe a taser. Anything, really. She might eventually get a real challenge.

Judy ran, outpacing the wounded warthog easily. She could still hear that _tack-fump_ , easily keeping pace behind her, and remembered that foxes used to eat rabbits. It made sense that Nick would easily manage to catch up. She slowed near the hedgerows that led to safety and stopped, then turned to face Nick.

Judy Hopps' heart beat faster as the sound of her partner-turned-hunter grew closer and stopped. She flinched as, from the deep shadows beside an oversized gravestone, light green eyes that glowed unnervingly with reflected starlight flicked open and watched her unblinkingly.

"Nick," she said and took a step toward him. "Please, Nick... what are you doing?"

Nick's voice seemed to come from all around her. "Exactly what I have to, Judy. I'm sorry."

Judy didn't have any time to question her erstwhile ally further as he lunged forward, faster than he had any right to, and swiped a paw in front of her. Judy felt an almost-forgotten yet horrifically familiar _tearing_ sensation as flesh parted before slashing claws. She raised her left paw to her neck, patting the stinging sensation that had taken root in her flesh. She pulled the paw away, confused at the wetness she felt, and felt herself grow woozy as she took in the _red_ that coated her paw. She mused that it was a lot. Too much, in fact. Judy fell to her knees, eyes fixed upon Nick's. His eyes, glowing like gems, were the last thing she saw before her vision faded to black.

* * *

Nick cradled Judy's body to his chest, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stroked her cheek. Claret-coloured blood created a sopping puddle around him and he kneeled in it, not caring if it was soaking his clothes or fur. It was everywhere, it seemed, over his paws, Judy's body, her cheeks... his own claws. Her body had shaken and trembled as it fought to stay alive, and he hoped he had brought her comfort in the last minutes of her life. She had stilled and exhaled a rattling, lung-emptying breath about a minute ago and now he found he couldn't let her go.

And through it all, from the moment he had pulled her close and tried to comfort her, Simon George Renner had stood behind him with a paw on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, Piberius. You've done what's necessary... for the greater good." the older fox said, releasing him.

"Yes," Nick said, voice choked with sorrow. "The greater good."

"Just so. And now you're going to bury her. Tomorrow is a new day. Full of opportunities."

Nick gave a heavy sob. "Full of opportunities." he repeated.

"Exactly. I will leave you to say your goodbyes."

Renner stepped back and turned, then walked away slowly. Nick quietly cried, holding Judy's corpse close and begging her forgiveness.

He hoped she would understand.

It really was for the greater good...


	11. Bad Hopps

_As per all other chapter headings, the cover image for this fic is used with permission of Littleivy25, whose other works can be found on deviantart-dot-com!_

* * *

The velvet blackness of the night sky above the tree canopy was speckled with pinpricks of starlight. Far from the pool of blood that marked a young doe-rabbits exit from life, along a trail of dark red drops of drying blood, a bedraggled fox in the uniform of a Zootopia Police Department officer put his weight behind a shovel and made the grave he was digging a little deeper.

The metallic grating of the shovel cutting through the dirt was rhythmic, accompanied by a soft and steady refrain of hushed breaths as the fox panted for breath. The toil was hard, but he refused to stop; this would be no shallow grave. She deserved better.

Nicholas Piberius Wilde, murderer of his partner, mumbled a monologue of despair as he worked and sweated and panted. "I'm so sorry, Carrots. There really was no other way... if only I could... I could have done it differently. I'd have spared you from this. I'm so... so sorry."

He sniffled pathetically and spared a glance at the body of Judy Hopps. The bunny laid in peaceful repose, her fur and clothes still soaked with blood from her rather violent, albeit swift, death. She was on her back and, truth be told, looked at peace.

Nick closed his eyes and forced the shovel deeper. "I know what I've done is unforgivable... I don't expect that I'll ever come back from this, but... but I want you to know... if you're listening... that I am sorry."

The fox continued to dig, his mumbling ceased for the time being. He grunted in frustration as the hard edge of the shovel hit another large stone and jarred his arms before he tried another spot. He worked the stone free, paused in his digging to lift the rock free and place it next to his steadily-growing mound of dirt, then picked up the shovel to continue.

Nick gave a sob and threw the spade, head-first, into the soil at the bottom of the grave. "I just... I just want to know, Carrots... I need to know... just give me some sign, please, if you can... can you ever forgive me for this?"

"Nope."

Nick dropped to his knees within the grave; it might not be a 'shallow' grave but his head and shoulders were still visible above the lip, even with his temporarily shortened stature. "Come _on_ Fluff, I've said I was sorry like fifty times already. I _know_ it was your favourite shirt and I'm _sorry_ that I clawed you but they'd never have believed it otherwise!"

Judy pushed herself up and rested on her elbows, glaring at Nick. She shifted her weight and freed her right arm, pinching a piece of the blood-stained cloth that made up her shirt and holding it out towards him. "This here, Nicholas, is my _favourite_ shirt. Not just a _nice_ shirt; not even a _great_ shirt, but it is. My. Favourite. And you have covered it in blood and tears and snot and mud and who even knows what else tonight."

She clambered to her feet and walked the few steps needed to reach the edge of her grave and towered above him imperiously. "And if that wasn't enough, once again, I find that the only way you could think of engineering a way out of a situation is to _murder me_ in cold blood. This is the _fifth time_ , Nick! The fifth! I could understand it during the Nighthowler case; heck, even when we were _literally_ thrown to the wolves in that underground fighting ring, but five times the first plan you've come up with is 'kill Judy to put myself into their good books'."

Nick's ears, already flat against his skull, seemed to flatten more. "I've already said I'm sorry and you've had me digging your stupid grave for an hour already! Couldn't you at least dig a little bit of it?"

"No, Nick, I can't. I'm _dead_." Judy said, waving a paw at her shirt again. "Blood. Blood. Blood. Dead. Now keep digging; you're not allowed to stop until I'm satisfied. Then you can fill it in, make me a nice little pile of stones-"

"It's called a _cairn_ , Carrots-"

"-and then go pick me some flowers. After all, I'm just your _best friend_ and _partner_ and you are feeling ever so guilty about my _fifth death_."

Nick began to sob and picked up the shovel again.

"And enough of the pity-party! I might have let this all go, and you could have avoided all of this work to reinforce the lie..."

"I said I was sorry about the shirt!"

"I know you are," Judy said with a growl. "But this is punishment for _wiping your blood across my forehead_ and saying ' _Simba_ '!"

Nick's sobs echoed through the night, accompanied by the constant rhythmic shovelling of dirt.

* * *

Nicholas Wilde lay prostrate upon the loamy undergrowth of the woods. A small hillock of disturbed soil, a few inches shorter and thinner than his body, marked the final resting place of Judith Eileen Hopps. The eulogy had been beautiful and heartfelt, containing a piece of advice handed down from his mother Vivian regarding cleaning blood from clothes that had been met with a dry-heave of disgust from the audience of one. A small cairn of stones was the headstone, one of the larger and smoother of the ones unearthed from beneath the ground having been engraved with the incumbent's name. A scattered collection of wildflowers, laid next to the cairn, finished the artifice beautifully and gave an air of regret to the scene.

The fox's breathing had at last returned to normal. It had now been around four hours since he had murdered Judy, and he was considering doing it again.

"Maybe it needs more flowers."

Nick slapped his paws over his eyes and gave a muffled scream of frustration. "Carrots, please, this is _so_ much more than is necessary. I'm _sorry_ , alright? Do you get that? I, Nicholas P. Wilde, am _sorry_ I 'Lion King'd you and ruined your favourite shirt and fake-murdered you for the fifth time. I have built your grave, exactly to specifications. I gave you your own eulogy. I told you how to clean the shirt-"

"Nick, I do not care what your mother told you, licking my shirt is not going to clean it!"

"For fluff's- It's _my_ blood on your shirt for the most part, so I have to lick it. Your own saliva breaks down your own blood. You would just have to lick the collar some. And that's another thing; you had me shovelling and picking flowers and playing with rocks and stuff with an open wound on my paw! Do you have any idea how much that stings? I've had to keep stretching it and clenching my paw so much to keep the blood flowing to fool Renner and-"

Judy turned away from the grave and glared at Nick. "You shouldn't have scratched yourself so deep and you mixed it with rainwater anyway... Oh, and speaking of scratches," she pulled her shirt down and away from her throat to expose the three jagged lines that had begun to scab over following him slashing her neck open. "How am I meant to explain _these_ to my parents? 'Oh, don't worry about those little silver lines in my neck-fur, mom, those are from Nick _murdering me again!'"_

"Can we please not argue about this again?"

"I dunno, Nick, can you refrain from murdering me again in the future?"

Nick opened his eyes and his gaze met Judy's. "... Pretend-murder or actual?"

Judy's eyes narrowed, her mouth opened, and Nick resigned himself to another round of her yelling at him.

* * *

Judy checked her watch. Two in the morning. She hoped that it would be enough. She nudged Nick, sitting beside her with his back resting against hers, with her elbow. "Okay, slick, it's time to get going. Remind me again exactly why we aren't doing this together?"

Nick sighed. "Renner is my long-lost dad; he did nasty stuff to some real jerks and then did more nasty stuff to my mom. He went full-on off the rails and scurried back here, apparently his home before Zootopia, and somehow made everyone believe in this weird utopia that's kept in check by a bunch of animals murdering anyone they think is working against the good of the community. I have recently murdered and buried you-"

"It was a rather nice speech you gave."

"-out here in the woods-"

"A little cairn and everything. You really know how to treat a doe at her funeral."

"-and I will report to work tomorrow like everything is fine and dandy. I will keep an eye on everyone and you will take the car-keys that I swiped earlier and drive to Zootopia; you will warn Bogo and get the full blue fury of the ZPD to come along and kick serious tail."

"Great. You're not coming with me because then they'd all get spooked and run for the hills. I'm not going with you because then the jig is up and they know that I wasn't actually murdered."

"Again."

"Precisely."

Nick sighed. "I still can't believe that sleazy rutter is my dad."

"I can't believe you ruined my shirt."

Nick groaned and pushed himself up, dusting off the back of his pants. "That's it. One more word about the shirt, or killing you, and I am going to dig up that grave and plant you in it."

Judy hopped to her feet beside him and grinned slyly. "Oh you big silly... I'm already in it. Schrödinger's bunny. I'm both dead _and_ alive all at once!"

"And regardless of which, you're _all_ annoying. Now get going, I need some sleep before I start acting all brainwashed and Bushel-Fielded."

"Be safe, Nick."

Nick, about to walk away, turned back and gave Judy a strong hug. "You too, Judes." Nick let her go and sauntered away in the direction of the village square. "Remember now; full blue fury. Anything less than SWAT with helicopters and vans and the like is not fury. I am not having my rescue from this open-air asylum be anything less than spectacular."

Judy rolled her eyes and skipped away. "I shall do my utmost to have the ZPD bend to your theatrical urges."

Nick raised his voice as the distance between them grew a little larger. "Good! See if you can get a banner made with glitter and stuff to hang behind the 'copter."

* * *

Judy unlocked the door of the car and climbed in. The vehicle, a small saloon more suited to Zootopia's streets than the rural backroads if she was honest, belonged to the recently-deceased Leslie Tiller. It was a stretch to reach the pedals but, thanks to the timing of the poor vixen's death, provided Judy with a guaranteed full tank of gas. The engine purred to life on the first turn of the key and Judy eased the clutch out as she pressed down on the gas pedal; the car pulled out of the driveway slowly and she grinned widely. She kept her speed and engine-noise low until she saw the sign advertising her exit from Bushel Fields' territory, then added speed until she cruised along the motorway towards Zootopia.

The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, casting the sky a beautiful mix of lilac, peach and orange, when Judy felt the need to answer a call of nature. The gas-tank of Tiller's car was still somewhere just above half-full and her watch indicated it was coming close to six in the morning. Nearly four hours of driving and she was a little under half-way. Judy cursed the roads for taking more indirect routes than the trains. She pulled over into the next rest-stop she saw, little more than a fuel station with a small twenty-four hour store attached. At least it advertised a bathroom.

Judy hopped from the car and entered the store; she took care of her business and grabbed a small granola bar from a display before she spied a telephone booth at the back of the service area. Judy's eyes lit up and she checked her watch again; six-oh-four. Clawhauser at least would be at the front desk; Bogo might even be in. She threw herself at the landline and mashed the numbers needed to dial precinct one as fast as she could. The phone barely rang before Benjamin Clawhauser's cheerful tones answered.

" _Zootopia Police Department, Ben Clawhauser speaking; how can I direct your call?"_

"Ben, it's Judy-"

" _Judy! Oh-em-goodness, it feels like forever! Have you and Nick been-"_

"Ben- Ben, we'll catch up in a minute. This is an emergency. Is Bogo in?"

" _The Chief? Yeah, he's in his office-"_

"I need to speak to Bogo right now, Ben; it's a matter of life and death."

The line beeped almost instantly as the call was transferred. Clawhauser wasn't fast on his feet, what with the donuts and cakes and all, but he could work the 'phones better than anyone.

" _Hopps."_ Bogo's bass-filled voice greeted. _"Life and Death?"_

"Sir; things are going down big-time in Bushel Fields. There've been multiple murders and Nick and I need major support. SWAT, helicopters... full mobilisation."

" _Hopps-"_

"Nick's staying in town to try and stop anyone getting suspicious but I'm in a rest-stop on the I-12 right now and-"

" _Hopps! I can't help you."_

Judy froze. "W-why?"

" _Hopps... I received a report yesterday evening from Chief Tusker. You and Nick were both signed off pending psychiatric review. I can't authorise a full mobilisation based on the words of someone I sent to rest and recuperate in the sleepiest town possible who has then supposedly simultaneously discovered one of the best-kept secret cults in the modern world and had a full blown psyche-episode leading to immediate suspension."_

"Chief, you have to believe me; Tusker is in on it too, that's why he's told you we've flipped!"

" _... I can send one car, Hopps. I can spare two officers to come and take a look around, ask some poignant questions, but that's it."_

Judy held the phone in front of her face and cocked her head at it. " _Two_ officers? That's it? Chief, I've been driving for nearly four hours in a commandeered vehicle at the speed limit and I'm not even halfway. We need you."

Judy heard the crackle down the line as Bogo sighed into the speaker. _"I'm sorry, Hopps... it's the best I can do in the situation."_

Judy gritted her teeth. "Fine. Fine! I'll just take the entire town by storm myself, shall I? A regular one-bunny arm... y..."

During her angry outburst, Judy had turned her head. A single rack of DVDs, resplendent in their plastic-wrap, stood before her. _Martial Paw_ , _Bad Wolves_ , _Die Herd_... even _Zootopia Police Academy_. Every buddy-cop movie action-filled adventure Nick had introduced her to, and all for the low-low-price of two-ninety-nine or two-for-five-bucks-

" _Hopps?"_

-right there in front of her. Judy's mind raced; Bogo couldn't send help, not much at any rate, and even if they did find something that warranted a further response it could be-

" _Hopps, are you still there?"_

-hours before they responded in enough force. Wainwright had joked that everyone and their mothers was armed in the countryside, and having already had a pistol aimed in her face mixed with the haul from Webley's farm-

" _Hopps?!"_

"Sorry Chief, I'll call you back. Send back-up." Judy said absently and hung the handset back up. Her eyes flickered around the store; cans of spray-paint, a budget travel case, a _large_ coffee and another granola bar joined her basket in short order and she dumped her goods in front of the almost-comatose teen wolf behind the counter.

"Welcome to _Zoo_ mers, will this be all for you today?" the wolf drawled in monotone. Judy's eyebrow rose as the wolf didn't even bother to look down to her.

"Got any sunglasses in my size?"

The wolf, with the most minimal effort possible, raised a paw and pointed at a rack over Judy's shoulder. "Aisle three, madam."

Judy bounded over and grabbed a set of aviators. If she was going to swoop in to Nick's rescue on her own... well, one bunny army was how she'd do it. If they were both going to die in some stupid suicidal assault then at least it would be theatrical enough for him. And she'd get to look bad-a-

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Judy took a deep breath. _Channel Nick._ She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet as smoothly as she could, then retrieved her credit card from the compartment. She flicked it up in her paw and held it out towards the wolf and gave him a sultry grin. "No thanks. This is something I've gotta do on my own."

* * *

Leslie Tiller's car sped well over the speed limit as it raced back towards the Bushel Fields' village limits. The engine roared as the revolutions crossed entirely too close to four thousand for the first time since it rolled from the assembly line, and despite the radio not working, singing could be heard.

A single female rabbit, a toothpick clenched between her teeth, her grey fur dyed a ruddy brown from dried blood, and a pair of dark aviator sunglasses covering her eyes, drummed her paws on the steering wheel and warbled along with a beat in her head.

" _Bad wolves-_ er _-Bad Hopps-bad Hopps; whatcha gonna dooo? Whatcha gonna doooo when I come for you? Bad Hopps-bad Hopps!"_


	12. Cry 'Havoc', and let slip the Bunnies

At almost exactly eight in the morning, a sheep in tough denim jeans, a dark flannel shirt and a flat cap wiggled himself from the driver's seat of his large four-by-four. He'd pulled the vehicle to a halt in front of his home, a farmhouse on the invisible borderline between countryside and Bushel Fields, taken a look around and smiled in satisfaction.

"This... this is what we've been working for." he said to himself and walked over to lean against a low wall. He breathed deeply and allowed the intermingling scents of mown grass, honeysuckle and the rain of the previous night to calm and relax him further. This was perfection. This was a utopia he had helped build.

This was Bushel Fields.

The ram's left ear flicked and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. It had been subtle; he'd thought it was a fly or bee at first, but there was an increasingly loud drone of a car engine coming towards him. The ram turned on his heel and walked a few paces forward towards the crest of the small hill that lay maybe fifty yards from his current position. The ram's eyes opened wide as, above the noise of the approaching car, he could hear something else... something horrible.

The muffled thump of bass and the musical stylings of _The White Stripeds_.

The ram took a fearful step backwards towards his four-by-four. Whatever was coming could spell bad news for the town, for the utopia... more mammals might have to be _taken care of_ to keep the peace. And then he froze.

The car crested the ridge... he knew that car. The engine roar died to a more tolerable level as the brakes were applied instead of the gas, but the music... that _awful_ music! The morning sun reflected from the windscreen, making it hard to look into the vehicle. It was Leslie Tiller's car, that much was certain, but she had been dealt with... so who could it-

A single cloud passed across the sky and hid the sun from view, allowing the windscreen to become transparent once more.

Sitting in the driver's seat, her long ears perked up and angled directly at him, was a small grey rabbit.

And he definitely knew the rabbit.

* * *

Judy rolled the toothpick around her mouth. The aviators that rested on the bridge of her nose had felt foolish after the first hour, but now that the sun was up she was glad of them. The sheep before her, a farmer by the name of Terrence Schaff, stared at her with an expression of realisation and horror upon his face.

Judy steadily reached out and turned the stereo up louder and skipped to the next song on her iPawd, then grinned maniacally as the shuffle hit the best song possible... a _remix_.

A simple repeated melody on a piano. An echoing choir... the first lyrics rang out, haunting and soft compared to the pounding beat of the subwoofer.

" _Ready or not, here I come; you can't hide."_

Bass boomed from the stereo as the beat dropped and Schaff turned tail, sprinting as fast as his portly frame could manage for the cab of his vehicle. Judy slapped the gearshift with her paw from neutral to first and stamped her foot down hard on the accelerator. Her car lunged forward, tyres screaming as rubber burned and melted from sudden motion.

Schaff jumped up and reached deep into his four-by-four; he grabbed his radio-mic from the dash and clicked the transmit button.

"It's-" was all he managed before Judy Hopps' purloined car rammed into the front of his vehicle and shunted it hard. He fell from his precarious perch in the window, the radio still clasped in his cloven hoof, and landed with a heavy thump onto the road surface. The cord had snapped. Schaff scrambled back from the collision. He had made it three feet before Judy Hopps, covered in dried blood, leapt from the open window of her vehicle and ran straight at him.

Schaff felt his life flash before his eyes. "Ma~a~a~am!" he bleated fearfully, then crashed to the ground holding his snout as Judy executed a perfect scissor-kick into it.

Judy grinned as she landed next to the dazed sheep, then flinched away as a piece of the stone wall beside her exploded into small chips of debris. She whirled around and raised an eyebrow as she took in the sight of a wrinked and rather frail-looking ewe aiming a shotgun at her. A shotgun that had recently fired both barrels, if the smoke that curled from the muzzle was any hint.

Judy realised what that meant a heartbeat later and broke into a frenzied run at the old ewe.

 _Farmers. Farmers' mums. Crackers._

Schaff's mother was well-versed in the art of reloading; the breach was cleared of spent shells and fresh ones placed in moments. The long metal barrels were lifted, her weakened arms nevertheless having enough strength in them to wield the fearsome scourge of thieves and intruders, and aimed at the space Judy Hopps occupied-

About half a second before. Schaff's mother had enough time to realise that the small bunny apparently had no qualms about hitting an octogenarian before Judy's legs crashed full-force into her face.

"What the hell do you think you can possibly _do_ , rabbit?" Terrence yelled. He was sat on his rump, his own bloodied snout matching his mother's. The pair were tied together with strong gardener's wire, trussed like hogs. Judy leaned down close to Schaff's face and smiled.

She took out another toothpick and slipped it between her teeth. "See, that's the thing, Schaff. I'm going to take your entire _world_ from under you, and bring your rotten little dystopia to an end."

Schaff scoffed and spat blood onto the ground by Judy's feet. "In your _dreams!_ " he said with a sneer.

Judy straightened up and gave a smirk that was, if anything, even more smug than even Nick Wilde's most infuriating. "My dreams, Terry; your nightmares. Mind if I borrow your car?"

The bleated roar of frustration could be heard as far as the hedgerows that were shared with Arthur Webley's abandoned premises.

* * *

Sergeant Simon Bailey glanced up from his novel as the door to the station opened. The familiar scent of Officer Hopps, mixed with an odd-smelling mix of mud, sweat, blood and burnt rubber. He cocked his head quizzically and gave a low whine of confusion. The grey rabbit didn't even look his way as she walked past and shoved the door to the back areas of the station open. He opened his mouth to shout after her, then thought better of it and closed his muzzle with a soft click of teeth upon teeth. If she was covered in that much blood already... he didn't want to risk anything, let alone disturbing her just yet... she looked _mad_. Bailey looked around, checked over his shoulders, then settled down to read his book again.

Fifteen minutes passed. Thirty. His ears pricked up as he heard a familiar but hard-to-place jingling of metal. He leaned forward over his desk, book forgotten for the moment, and watched.

Judy Hopps, dressed in full uniform and claw-proof vest, exited the depths of the station and walked slowly to the exit in front of the reception desk. Bailey's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in horror.

The bunny was quite literally armed to the teeth. Thigh holsters hung from her belt, extra magazines tucked into the attached pouches dotted about the small of her back above her tail. A heavy duty backpack was slung from her shoulders, a large pump-action shotgun stowed on either side of the main compartment like two deadly rabbit-ears. Saints only knew what was inside the backpack, but it sounded like even more ammunition, and in her paws she gripped a long rifle. Her fur was clean now, but the dark sunglasses over her eyes and the toothpick she was chewing on helped give the impression that if she was bothered... bad things would happen.

Bailey fell back into his seat and stared as the heavily-laden bunny walked casually towards the doors. "Hopps," he heard himself call. His heart paused in it's beat as she turned and glared at him over the rims of her aviators. "I- er, Ch-Chief Bogo called... I- I'll tell him you'll call him back. Carry on..."

Hopps _winked_ at him and used her tongue to push the toothpick from one side of her mouth to the other before she nudged the the door open and disappeared into the brightly lit world of Bushel Fields.

Bailey reached out a shaking paw for the phone and fumbled, the plastic receiver hitting the desk with a thud as he dropped it.

"Are you alright, Simon?" came a voice from behind him. Another wolf, completely identical barring the way his fur stuck up in odd clumps, came up behind him and slapped a free paw onto Bailey's shoulder. "You look like you've just nearly been shot."

"Edgar, I get the horrible feeling that something _big_ is about to happen."

Edgar Bailey snorted. "Sure thing, brother. Nobody tells me _nothin'_." he said, then turned and went back to his desk.

It took Simon Bailey three attempts at dialling the number Chief Bogo had left before he got it right.

* * *

Judy allowed the massive sheep-scaled four-by-four to roll forward gently. Thankfully, it was an automatic, so with a little ingenuity and a piece of plywood she had managed to jerry-rig and modify the vehicle so she could drive it. She pulled up near a familiar alleyway and smirked to herself at the small hoard of school-kits she could see in their casual clothes. "Hey." she called, and the group looked up at her. She overlooked the small, fresh graffiti tags that littered the walls they were sitting by and the numerous cigarette butts. Misdemeanours that could be overlooked for now.

"You want to do something useful?"

The assorted mammals nodded and Judy smiled. She reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed the handles of a large holdall, then tossed it out to them. "Take those; screw the cameras up. I don't have anywhere near enough Junior Detective badges, though."

The teenagers grinned maliciously as the holdall was opened and dozens of cans of spray-paint were revealed. Judy's own grin twisted into something far too predator-like and unnatural for a rabbit. This 'bad cop' thing was _awesome_!

* * *

Nicholas Wilde would have been sat in the police cruiser he had shared with Judy, had he been able to drive. Instead, he was relegated to walking a beat today following his partner's untimely demise... and his patrol never took him far from the ever-watchful eyes of the NWA members in the town square. He tried to play it off as best he could but he was becoming nervous. Going up against fanatics was just plain _weird_. It was like the village was a religion or something...

Nick slumped against a nearby doorway and kicked his feet at the ground in a magnificent display of unprofessionalism. It was a small rebellion, but hopefully it grated on someone's nerves. He contemplated the ground, his eyes picking out the small cracks between paving stones. He decided to use the remainder of his shift productively and began to count the hairs on his toes.

Then he heard it. It was a weird noise, a culmination of multiple voices together that mingled and made him raise his head. Every single mammal, every Neighbourhood Watch Alliance member in the square, was looking at something to his left and _growling_.

Nick turned his head and choked on air. There, walking slowly down the street and armed to the teeth, was Judy. _She's got more hardware on her than some of the weapons lockers can fit in them!_ He thought, his mind boggled at the sight and refusing to process it. Nick's eyes narrowed. Was she wearing _sunglasses_ too?

He watched as Judy slowly padded forward and stopped. The air was so thick with tension Nick could barely breathe. Judy made the first move, rolling the toothpick in her mouth and spitting it out; the small piece of wood fell end over end and landed in the water of the fountain.

Judy's mouth broke into a wide grin, the same grin as when she'd hustled him for the first time. _Oh, Sweet Marian, no-_

"Morning." Judy said.

Nick hit the ground as the world burst into insanity.

* * *

The elderly skunk in the huge coat was the first to break his cover. He spread his arms wide, paws still in his pockets, and his knee-length coat burst open. A repeater-rifle hung from a sling under his arm and he scooped it up with practised ease. He aimed, pulled the trigger, and the rifle barked.

The round missed it's intended target, Judy having jumped for cover the moment the skunk's coat opened. She hit the ground and rolled behind the relatively large cover of the fountain and risked a quick glance over the chest-high wall. Bullets whined and cracked past her head as other mammals realised a full-blown shoot-out had begun and loosed their own weapons in earnest. Coat-skunk was an issue; his was by far the greatest rate of fire so far and he'd drawn his weapon well before the others.

" _Target centre, pull the switch!"_ Judy remembered her firearms instructor at the academy saying. She was not in any way as good a shot as Nick, her eyesight being more suited to tracking peripheral movement than focussing directly ahead... but she was still capable of hitting a target at close range. She stood from cover and brought her rifle to bear in one smooth motion, the iron sights resting upon the skunk. Time slowed; Judy breathed in, let out the breath smoothly, and pulled the trigger halfway through her exhalation. The rifle in her paws jerked as the propellant in the round ignited and forced the small lump of metal that made up the tip of the bullet to accelerate from stillness to supersonic in an instant.

The bullet crossed the distance between the muzzle of the rifle and her target in less than a heartbeat; it _spanged_ from the ratchet that held numerous empty ale barrels in place on the back of a small pickup and allowed them to topple and roll forwards... directly into the back of the skunk's legs. A muffled and wet snap, followed by a cry of pain, indicated she had been successful in taking her first opponent down without using lethal force.

"I've broken my hip!" came the cry of the skunk, and Judy winced.

"Sorry!" she called out to the elderly victim. The curse that he replied with, Judy was sure, could have stripped paint from a wall. "Well fine, be that way! I was just trying to apologise!"

A red and blue figure _thumped_ onto the ground next to her and Judy gave a small twitch of fright. "Carrots," the freshly-arrived Nick said reproachfully, "what is the first rule we discussed when we had to do that riot refresher course?"

Judy shoved the rifle she carried into his paws and folded her arms petulantly. "Not to apologise to anyone we had to get rough with."

Nick grinned toothily and, after giving a cursory check of the rifle, pulled his own sunglasses from his pocket and slid them over his eyes. "And why was that?"

Judy pulled a pair of pistols from her thigh holsters and held them at the ready. "Because they were trying to hurt us first and are not going to be our friends." she said with the dullness of repetition.

"Exactly. You go left, I'll give covering fire?"

Judy nodded once and grinned. "I missed you, doofus."

"You know I love you too. Now scram," Nick said, then affected as stereotypical a 'country bumpkin' accent as possible and patted his rifle. "Ah gots me some'a'them-thar _varmints_ ta' shoot; hoo-wee!"

Judy leaped from cover and started sprinting; she fired her pistols as she ran, alternating between left and right and yelled back over her shoulder as Nick rose from cover and started laying down careful shots to dissuade any assailants. "That is _terrible_ , Nick! You can't say things like that!"

Nick ducked back into cover as the school-teacher, Deanna Woodwarren, ran towards him and fired her own pistols in a twisted mirror of Judy. "Shore Ah can, Jee-yoo-dee!" he said, then somersaulted from cover and loosed a round that caught the pistol-wielding, brainwashed doe in the upper thigh hard enough to knock her legs from under her and make her face-plant into the ground; she was down and out. Nick grinned to himself and rolled back into cover, only to have to duck as a bullet cracked from the wall beside his head.

Nick caught a flash of movement in the upper windows of the shop and focussed on it; the deer he was used to seeing behind the counter had a high-powered hunting rifle and it wavered slightly as she aimed at him.

"Hey Deer-Hunter!" Nick yelled as he aimed at her. "Wanna go out some time?"

Another bullet ricocheted from beside his head. Nick's grin became predatory. "Aw, come on; it'd be _fawn!_ " he said, then pulled the trigger.

The round hit the doe in the shoulder and knocked her back; her rifle fell from her hooves and out of the window, striking the ground and rendering it useless as the barrel bent.

Nick cackled madly. "Aw, at least let a guy down gently. You're breaking my _Hart_."

"Nick will you stop with the jokes and cover me?!"

"Yes, _deer_!"

"Starting to wonder why I came back for you!"

* * *

Judy ducked and dodged wildly, trying to throw the aim of the NWA off of her. She jumped high and kicked off of the window-frame of a house, cartwheeling in mid-air as she fired her pistols at a pig couple who were hunkered down by the entrance to the pub. The heavier report of Nick's rifle joined the thunderous noise of the skirmish and Judy threw herself into cover to reload. She took a deep breath, counted to four, then darted right and dropped to her knees. As she began to skid on the little built-in knee-pads of her uniform she stretched out her arms and fired; her aim was true and the little chains holding a large hanging planter that was more trough than basket broke, the soil-filled receptacle dropped and landed heavily on the cowering pigs and knocked them out cold.

Judy's skid took her into her next piece of cover, a parked car. Nick's rifle fired again and Judy popped her head from cover to check on the damage; Nick was forcing Doctor Simmons into cover and preventing the hare from drawing a bead on her.

"Fascists!" a female voice screamed from behind her and Judy whirled around. The nice otter from their hotel was standing a short distance away, some form of old automatic carbine laid across the hood of a car... and it was pointing right towards her. There was no time to move, no time to react. Judy clenched her eyes shut and heard the first shot ring out-

* * *

"Bitch!" Nick whooped as he ran forwards; his shot hit the otter in the shoulder and span her around twice before she landed on the ground, whimpering in pain. "Judy, watch out!" he yelled.

Judy opened her eyes and threw herself to her left. She rolled as she landed and jumped to her feet as the sound of metal-on-metal rang out. The old male otter who she and Nick had seen dozing in their hotel lobby more times than he had been awake, was advancing upon her with a _sword_ in paw, of all things. Judy reached for her baton at the small of her back and pulled it from it's pouch. She flicked her wrist and glanced behind her; Nick was still a few dozen metres away, albeit approaching swiftly. He had let the rifle down from it's ready position, afraid to fire in case he hit her.

Judy returned her attention to her attacker just in time; the otter had his sword raised above his head and swung it down in a blow that very well could have split her from clavicle to hip. She hopped back and brought the baton up; the tip cracked against the quillions of the sword without effect.

She stepped back and clicked her heels together, then brought her baton up _en garde_ , like she'd seen in an old movie once. The otter, it seemed, recognised the gesture and performed the same action a lot smoother than she had, belying his skill and practice. The otter twirled his sword with a flourish about his body and settled into a perfect stance of readiness; his sword was hilt-low and point-high, held crosswise across his body to give maximum protection. Judy hesitated slightly at the display before taking her own stance; she rested all of her weight on her right leg, gingerly stepping out with the left. Her baton, clenched in her right paw, was brought up beside her head and her left paw slowly came up to join it. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious, even now, that almost every armed combat move she knew was from a movie; baton lessons in the academy were a little more 'brute force' than 'fine technique'...

The pair stared at each other for a heartbeat. The otter made the first move and opened his mouth for a yell as he stepped forward, his aim to get inside Judy's reach and skewer her.

The otter fell to the ground in a heap before he could finish the step. Judy, still in the same pose bar her right paw, which now was held at her waist-height and clutched a smoking pistol, blew out a sigh of relief.

"Carrots, that is _so_ against the rites of battle." Nick said as he arrived beside her. The old otter was laid on the floor, clutching his right leg as blood trickled from a small hole in his knee.

"Nick, I am _not_ Usagi Yojimbo. He had a _sword_!" she said, gesturing with both paws at the otter's weapon which rested on the tarmac nearby.

Nick tilted his head down and looked at her over the rims of his shades. "I could see that; just saying, is all. Seriously uncool."

"Yeah!" chimed in the otter with a growl.

Judy punched Nick in the shoulder and glared at the otter. "You are _not_ allowed an opinion on this."

"Stop!" someone yelled; Nick and Judy looked up from the grumbling otter and took in the priest, Father Derringer, walking towards them with his paws raised. "Stop this, please."

Judy stepped over the otter and began walking towards the bunny. Nick followed a step or two behind and flexed his paws around the rifle he held.

"Please, both of you; let us stop this mindless violence! Judy, my child; you may not be a doe of God but surely you're a doe of peace? And you, Nicholas; we have broken bread together. Surely you must see that this madness has to end."

Judy put her paws on her hips. "I may not be a 'doe of God', Reverend, but I know right and I know wrong. And I have the good grace to know which is which."

"Except when it comes to bringing a gun to a sword-fight."

" _Shut up_ , Nicholas!"

The priest gave her a sad smile. "Oh blow it out your arses." he said. The priest flicked his wrists and a pair of small calibre pistols, mounted on rails attached to his forearms beneath his Cassock, appeared in his paws. Nick gave a wordless yell of warning as Judy raised her own pistol and he raised his rifle.

The priest was quicker.

The two bullets hit Judy in her claw-proof vest above her sternum and the force of the blow knocked her onto her back. Nick, now unimpeded, raised his rifle and loosed a shot that took the priest in his shoulder and punctured a low-hanging ear at once. The buck squealed in pain and fell to the ground. Before the rabbit even hit the floor, Nick was moving. "Carrots! Judy!" he yelled and dropped to his knees beside her. He patted her vest as he hunted for the impacts and gave a deep sigh of relief as two little discs of metal tinkled from the cloth of her vest to the ground. Judy was winded, evidently, but not down for good. "Carrots, what the hell is it with you bunnies and dual-wielding? Like seriously, I get that it looks cool, but d'you think one of you could just _not_?"

Judy groaned. "We can't handle big rifles well. We need something a little more small-calibre with high rate of fire."

Nick chuckled. "Now there's a euphemism."

"Nicholas Wilde, I will shoot you myself if you're about to make a sex joke."

Nick grinned. "Don't you worry your ivory tower of prudishness over it, sweetheart. I'd never say anything about you not being able to handle the size of my weapon-OW!"

"Say anything," Judy said, growling, as she released the pinch she had given to her partner, "about that again and your _weapon_ will be removed and mounted above my dad's fireplace. It'll make the burrow look _real_ homely."

"For the love of Easter, will you two shut up already? And drop your guns too." Doctor Simmons said. The hare, holding a large shotgun, had walked up to them unnoticed and stood a few feet away with his weapon at the ready. Judy groaned. She had dropped her pistol and baton when Derringer's shots had hit her and the other pistol she wore was still tucked in it's holster. Nick had his rifle, but he was holding it in his off-paw while he tried to help her up.

"Aw come on..." Nick asked with a whine. "I _knew_ you were bandaging my foot too tightly."

The hare laughed. "I bandaged you the same as anyone else; you're just a pansy."

Judy narrowed her eyes at the Doctor. "What about the Hippocratic Oath?" she said.

The Doctor's attention shifted slightly. "Well, Miss Hopps... I suppose I'm just being an actual hypocrite. Now, enough talk, drop them."

Nick sighed, then smiled at the hare. He tossed his rifle forwards, muzzle pointed towards the doctor, and hoped.

* * *

The primary rule of gun safety is to keep the gun pointed in a safe direction. The secondary is to keep your finger off of the trigger until you are ready to shoot. The tertiary rule is to always keep the gun unloaded until you are ready to use it. There is an additional unwritten rule that most mammals tend to follow without being aware of it's existence; never throw a loaded gun onto the ground.

The rifle landed and the resultant jolt caused the action to cycle. The hammer, cocked back already, came forward and the firing pin impacted on the primer, causing the propellant to ignite. The round left the chamber and sped down the barrel, the rifling imparting spin to increase accuracy. The round left the barrel and struck Doctor Simmons in the ankle.

Simmons screamed in pain and fell to the ground, grasping at his now-shorter leg. Nick winced hard at both the sound and the small fluffy foot that was now about a metre further away from it's owner than it ought to have been. That was... definitely not the outcome he had been hoping for.

Judy, it seemed, had no issues. She struggled to her feet and pulled a small zip-tie from her belt, then knelt beside the still-yelling Doctor and applied it like a tourniquet just above the wound. She stood again and kicked the shotgun away from the hare. "What's up, Doc? Too tight for you?"

Judy turned from the writhing doctor, picked up her pistol, and took the time to check it over. Nick was watching her with unbridled horror. "Nick, before you freak out, I want to ask you something. Can you reattach feet?"

Nick shook his head from side to side.

"Good, neither can I. Plus he said you were a pansy. Only I'm allowed to do that. So; let's roll."

Nick blinked a few times. "You're a nut-case." he said, then bent to retrieve his rifle. He checked the magazine and found it was empty. "I like it. Where do you want to go first? Also, do we have more guns?"

"Guns are in the backpack over there," she said and nodded in the direction of the fountain. "As for where to go... Pub?"

Nick grinned, pulled his aviators from his pocket and slid them on. He started walking back to retrieve the backpack and waved lazily over his shoulder. "Pub it is."


	13. Two Pints of Lager and a round of Shots

The sound of splintering glass preceded the airborne delivery of a large wooden sandwich-board that bore a cheerfully-written 'Welcome!' in white chalk on either side. The sign had, until very recently, occupied the space just outside the front doors of the Village Inn pub. Frank Setter very much doubted that the sign had become animate in the short time since that infuriating police bunny had disturbed the latest perfect morning in Bushel Fields, so he did what any self-respecting and discerning pub landlord might do.

He raised his rifle, barked "Now!" to his wife, and started firing every single shot he had loaded into his pump-action shotgun at the entrance the sign had been thrown through. Mary, his loving and doting wife, did likewise with her own shotgun.

The pair of badgers fired until their weapons clicked dry; it was almost therapeutic.

There was a long second of silence.

"I take it the pub's closed today?" came the voice of Nick Wilde, the fox officer who had flirted with his wife, despite her rebuttals, like it had been his calling in life. Frank couldn't help but growl, heavy and low.

"It's okay!" the fox continued. "We just want one! Maybe two. Alright, alright... Three!"

Frank slapped a paw onto Mary's shoulder and shoved her down to the floor as he ducked himself; the glimpse he had before the bar blocked his vision of the two police officers, pistols grasped in each paw, jumping _sideways_ into his pub and firing wildly, was more than enough to spur him into reloading his shotgun as quickly as he could.

* * *

Judy landed on her side with a small 'oof', keeping her pistols aimed at the bar. Nick landed a moment later and wasted no time in grabbing a heavy table built for some of the slightly larger mammals who might frequent the establishment and pulling it over to give them some makeshift cover. Judy was about to jump out and continue shooting when the roar of shotguns filled the air and the table shuddered with the impacts of buckshot. Judy crouched and tucked down anyway. She wasn't about to risk losing an eartip.

Nick, his sunglasses slightly askew, fixed them and tilted his head at her so he could look over the tops of the frames. "Carrots, if this is your idea of a first date... it sucks."

Judy grinned and returned his own look back at him. "Having fun, though?"

"Well yeah, but that's not the point-"

The pair rushed to their feet as the hail of shotgun fire ceased and they started to fire back; bullets shattered the glass bottles held in optics, sparked as they ricocheted from brass pumps, and splintered wood in little puffs of shellac and lacquer as they hit the woodwork. Nick and Judy both ran dry and ducked as Frank and Mary stood once more and the cycle began anew.

"-I'm trying to get at; this is unlike any date I've ever been on."

"I'll get you a bunch of flowers later, princess. At least it's memorable."

"It'll be less memorable if we die... and not to be pessimistic but this table's starting to sound-"

Nick and Judy both flinched aside as a chunk of wood the size of Judy's head exploded into nothingness between them. The pair stared at the hole between them and Nick swallowed thickly. "Uh... it's starting to sound pretty thin, Fluff."

Judy frowned hard, then brightened into a dangerous smile. "Say there, Mr Wilde... how's your throwing-arm?"

Nick cocked his head. "Say what now?"

Judy's smile widened and she got to her feet. "Come on, Nick. Upsies!"

"'Upsies'? Who the- hey, wait- what-"

* * *

Frank Setter heard the dull click of his shotgun's hammer striking thin air and snarled. Mary and he had kept up a sterling pace and the table those two _runts_ were hiding behind was starting to show signs of weakness, however they hadn't won just yet. Frank ducked behind the bar once more. He reached for the box of shotgun shells set between himself and his wife, but paused for a moment at the lack of gunfire. Were the officers playing a trick, or had some of the shots struck home?

Frank risked the tiniest peek above the counter-top and was greeted with the sight of the nearly destroyed table sitting exactly where it had before he ducked. No gunfire, no fox, no bunny... nothing. Frank risked standing fully, his shotgun held before him as though it still had the potential to be lethal. Mary, below him, was ratcheting shells into the breach of her own weapon.

"You had enough yet?" Frank called out. His query was met with more silence. He looked down to Mary and smiled. "I think we got 'em, lover."

When Frank Setter looked back up, he saw the oddest sight he had in his fifty-eight years on this planet. A fox in a police uniform and sunglasses, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, halfway through a baseball pitch. Upon the fox's paw, curled up tightly but with her eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Frank's own, sat a little grey bunny rabbit in her own police uniform. Frank's left eyebrow rose of it's own accord, soon being joined by it's companion on his face, as the fox pitched the bunny right at Frank's face... and the bunny whooped two words.

In the moment before impact, Frank had enough time to wonder exactly what the hell a 'fastball special' was.

* * *

Nicholas P. Wilde did not care to admit to being afraid of much in this life. He had, just in the course of the last twenty-four hours, been threatened with certain death and been shot at without really breaking a sweat. He and Judy had thrown themselves into a close-quarters gun battle without cover or much of a plan beyond 'pull triggers and hope'.

He was most assuredly scared of Judith Eileen Hopps right now. It was hard to put a claw on exactly which part of the scene playing out before him was most terrifying, but the fact the small grey doe's close-up assault of the badgers behind the bar had allowed him to stand, wincing in sympathy, in the open for the last minute or so really gave him opportunity to think on it some.

Maybe it was the way she had whooped when he tossed her. Maybe it was the way she used Frank's face like most gymnasts did a springboard. It might even have been the way she bounced back and forth from one opponent to the other as if it was a beautifully choreographed, albeit uber-violent, dance...

It was probably the way Judy had avoided the latest swipe of claws from Mary by wriggling under Frank's shirt and clambering up to the level of his sternum before tearing the material asunder and bursting out like the xenomorph pup in Alien did from the chest of the brown-furred wolf called Kane...

It could easily have been the way the diminutive bunny somehow managed to drag the two badgers down to the ground, the screams and cries for help... or the way Hopps giggled while she fought them.

Nick watched, dumbstruck at the display, until Mary managed to pull herself slightly over the bar and scream. "Somebody call the police?!" was as much as she managed before a small grey-and-white paw grabbed her ear and pulled her back down.

* * *

Judy heard the sounds of heavy mammals running across the wooden flooring of the bar and hopped from cover. The Setters were down and done, and it had been _fun_. The sight of Nick, both paws in the air and his pistols dangling in a pose of surrender from his pointer-digits, standing in front of the fully armoured Bushel Fields officers as they brandished riot shields and batons, as almost too good. She smiled brightly and waved as one of the Andys' noticed her. "Hi everyone!"

Danny Portillo pushed his helm's visor up, the clear plastic already fogging slightly. "Hiya Judy!"

"Stop right there, bunny." came Chief Tusker's voice from behind her. Judy whirled and took in the sight of the warthog in his normal uniform with the small addition of a pair of six-shot revolvers in his hooves and a pair of quickdraw holsters on his hips. Judy heard a small groan from behind her and knew that Nick must have looked too.

"Why Chief Tusk, how nice to see you again. How's your face?"

Tusker bristled at Judy's voice and his sneer looked awfully lopsided with only one tusk.

"You will pay for that, rabbit. Officers; arrest them."

"Whoa-ho-ho-hoa there." Nick said as the officers took a step forward. "You can arrest us if you like-"

The Andys' took another step forward.

"-can you maybe wait for me to finish, first? You can throw us in prison-"

Saxon and Lyle did likewise.

"-Oh for rut's- Judy, can you help me out here?" Nick said with a whine.

"You can all go back to being blind, submissive slaves or you can be real police officers and help us bring an end to this absurd story!"

One of the Andys' flipped up his visor and looked between Nick and Judy. His gaze settled eventually on the other Andy. "What the rut are you they on about?"

The other Andy raised his own visor and looked at Judy. "What _are_ you on about?"

Judy hopped down from the bar to stand beside Nick. She turned as she spoke to address all of the officers before them. "Have you ever wondered why the crime rate is so low...and yet the accident rate is so high?"

"No. Yeah... wait, what?" Portillo answered, confusion evident in his tone.

Nick stepped forward. "You've been brainwashed, Danny... same as everyone else here." Nick slowly lowered his paws and slipped his pistols into the holsters on his thighs, an extra gift in Judy's magic bag of armaments, and clapped his now-empty paws onto Danny's shoulders. "Brainwashed into naivety by a cult of megalomaniacs who want to control everything in the name of some sociopathic utopia that only they can see."

Judy turned to face Tusker head-on. The warthog almost looked worried. "I'd also like to point out that besides me and Nick, the only other officer who's running around packing heat is the Chief... Slightly suspicious, right?"

The eyes of the Bushel Fields officers turned as one to, first, the Chief's hooves and then to his face. "This is ridiculous!" Tusker yelled.

Nick turned and smirked at Tusker. "Oh no, _Willy_. This is very _unridiculous_. You have literally _no idea_ how utterly unridiculous-"

"Oh shut up, mongrel! You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Hey guys, watch this; The Greater Good!" Judy chimed in.  
Tusker's mouth snapped shut and he gurned for a moment. The warthog growled and twisted his face like he'd sucked an entire lemon in one go. Resistance was useless. "The greater good." he said, almost spitting the words from his lips.

Doris took her turn to flip her visor up, a quizzical look on her face. "I'm sorry, but I'm completely lost... what's this greater good-"

"The greater good." Tusker muttered.

"-uhhhh... what's going on?" Doris said.

Nick tilted his head back a little so he could see Doris in the corner of his eye. "Bushel Fields is a lie, Doris... for the last, oh, I dunno... twenty years or so, Willy? Yep; twenty years this village has been controlled by Chief Tusker, Simon Renner, and the NWA... They've lulled everyone into thinking this place is the _most perfect_ little village on the face of the planet and killed pretty much everyone and anyone who's threatened to change that... even Judy."

"Yup. Totally got killed." the bunny chirped happily, then frowned. "Again."

Nick gulped. "Er... moving on. Think about it. Lyle, you must've been about since the foundations were laid. Does any of this sound even a bit right?"

Lyle, the old wolf, lifted his own visor and gave a low rumbling growl as he mulled the theory over. "Yernar Ahreggun'as gorra poyt thar..."

"You know, I reckon he's got a point there." Saxon said, ever the interpretor.

Nick grinned. "You're damn right I do."

Tusker sneered and scoffed. "You're not _seriously_ going to believe _them_ are you?" he asked. The faces arrayed against him were cautious... guarded... calculating. Tusker cocked his revolvers and raised them slightly. "They're not even from around here!"

Andy Cartwright stepped forward slightly, a paw outstretched in a placating gesture. "Maybe... it's time to give it up, sir. We can all discuss this like civilised mammals..."

Tusker, a wild look in his eyes, began to back away. A word punctuated each slow step as he moved. "You. Incompetent. Flatfoots!"

The warthog raised his pistols high and fired. The bullets struck the connection point of a large decorative cart-wheel dotted with electric, imitation candles, and caused the heavy fixture to drop from the ceiling. It landed in a shower of light-bulb glass and sparks, and by the time everyone had recovered from their instinctual flinch...

Tusker was gone.

Judy span on her heel and put her paws on her hips. "Lyle, stay here with Saxon and secure the area. We should be getting reinforcements from Precinct One within the next few hours so when some new officers show up, tell them we need a _lot_ of help. The rest of you, go grab some guns from outside by the fountain and come with us."

The officers of Bushel Fields ran outside to arm themselves or to keep watch, as directed, and Judy started to reload her pistols. Nick joined her after a couple of seconds and grinned at her. "Hey, Carrots... want anything from the shop?"

Judy smirked. "You read my mind, Nick. Icy-Carrot. How about you?"

Nick paused in his weapon maintenance for a moment and looked thoughtful, tapping a claw on his chin. "Y'know, Carrots... I have this weird hankerin' for a whole serving of mindless violence to take my mind off my daddy issues. D'you think it's all those action movies and video games?"

Judy chuckled. "Nick, you literally found out last night your dad is a narcissistic megalomaniac racist sociopath whose highest-attained position in life is _supermart manager_. I think if there's ever been a need to work out your issues through senseless violence, it's now.

Nick sighed dramatically. "Well, if you say it's okay..."

* * *

Simon Renner stood in his suit slacks, tucked shirt with the sleeves rolled back, loosened tie and braces. The middle-aged fox had a small glass tumbler in paw and rolled the water within back and forth as he watched the security camera feeds that had all been tuned to the entrance of his personal fiefdom; the Bushel Fields' branch of 'Somerfurred'. His dark green eyes flitted across the screens and his left eyelid twitched as a group of police officers, animals of different sizes but most dressed in full riot gear, and all carrying lethal firearms, ran two-by-two across the car park from cover to cover.

"My, my," he crooned to himself before he drained his glass and licked his sharp canine teeth. "Here come ' _the Fuzz_ '."


	14. Clean-up on Aisle Five

Judy ran from the car she had crouched behind while Nick and Doris had made their way to the store entrance. Beside her, Portillo kept pace and the foursome met up behind a line of shopping carts. The Andys' were close behind them in the staggered approach and acted as rearguard.

Nick was looking at the store-front intently, his ears twitching slightly as his eyes moved to take in the details. Judy squinted slightly, trying to spot anything out of place, but could find nothing.

"So, Nick, what's our plan?" she asked quietly.

"Well-" Nick said, but was interrupted.

"We strike now in case they've heard the ruckus; if we leave it any longer to they'll have time to mobilise and prepare their defences. I say we go in through the front and take the place aisle-by-aisle; they won't be expecting that." Danny Portillo said. The leopard looked, if anything, more alive and alert than he had since Judy and Nick had met him.

"Uh..." Nick said, his wits having failed him for a moment. "Danny, what exactly do you know about storming a building?"

Portillo grinned widely. "Oh, I wrote the book on it."

Judy watched as the corner of Nick's mouth twitched upwards. "Sure you did, big guy... Now-"

"Actually," one of the Andys' said, "he _did_ write the book on it. 'Building Clearance and Tactical Raid Theories within the principle districts of Zootopia'."

Judy watched as Nick's smirk faltered and disappeared. Their eyes met and Judy saw the unasked question in his eyes... and felt her heart twist as she nodded as subtly as she could.

Nick slapped a paw over his eyes. "Just... just do what Danny said."

Judy laid a paw on Nick's head, between his ears, and patted gently before she ran over to her place in the line the officers formed against the brick wall next to the entrance of the store. She drew her pistols and bounced gently on the balls of her feet as she waited for Nick to give the go-ahead.

Nick sauntered up, his attitude firmly back in place and his pistols in their holsters, and walked past the gathered officers. His tail was swishing gently from side to side. "I just realised something; where is everyone? Today's Wednesday, so surely there should be a few mammals shopping... right? Well. If they are, then they're already inside and we don't _have_ to go in guns-blazing. Even if every single one of Renner's employees is somehow affiliated, twenty bucks says they won't dare try anything in front of innocent witnesses and by the time we're in private, we'll have them outnumbered."

"Nick, that is literally the dumbest thing I have ever heard you say." Judy said.

Nick leaned down in front of her, nose-to-nose, and ruffled her head-fur. "You, my sweet little Officer Fluffball, are just jealous you didn't think of it first." Nick straightened up to his full height then winked at the group of armed police. "I think the phrase is 'I'm going in', and pretty soon you're going to be eating sweet, sweet humble pie, Carrots."

Nick lowered his nose almost to his chest and held his paws out pads-up at his sides in a gesture that practically dared Judy to tell him he was wrong. She gritted her teeth; he'd done the exact same thing when he mocked her on the first day she'd spoken to him. She watched his body, then his bushy tail, disappear through the door that swished open on automated runners with a soft ' _bing-bong_ ' of announcement.

The officers behind her shuffled awkwardly and Judy held up a paw to still them. She had her three digits raised wide, and tucked them down in a silent countdown. _Three... two... one._

Nicholas Wilde exited the 'Somerfurred' supermart by a very different method to his entry; Judy also suspected it wasn't by his own volition he had flown through the air at a height somewhere around the level he could have comfortably passed over his own head, had he been standing there. The billowing cloud of broken glass that accompanied him in his travels likewise added to the theory.

Nick landed with a thud upon the ground in front of Judy and groaned. Judy rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, only for Nick to raise his arm and point at her without looking. "Don't even say anything, Carrots."

Judy tried her hardest to look innocent as Nick slowly clambered to his feet and brushed himself off. He shook his shoulders out and squared himself up, then took a step towards the door again. "You're going to follow Danny's plan and take the store as you go. I have the pleasure of dealing with the cart-wrangler."

Judy felt the blood drain from her face as all of the other officers cocked their heads or raised eyebrows in question.

The silent questions were answered when, in a second cascade of shattering glass, Michael the rabbit stomped outside of the store, grabbed Nick by the front of his shirt and hurled him back through the now-empty window frame. Judy waited a moment for Michael to stomp back inside and then followed, the other officers hot on her tail.

* * *

Nick landed a bit more gracefully this time and slid slightly across the tiled floor of the store. Once halted, he jumped to his feet and raised both paws in a classic boxer's stance. He spared a quick glance as Michael approached, the bunny somehow seeming as large as one of Mr Big's Polar Bear bodyguards despite only just being a little taller than Nick himself, and was pleased to see Judy lead the armed officers through the doors and deeper into the store. Nick grinned. "Hey, Michael! Great seeing you again, buddy. Listen, I can't help but feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot... I mean, sometimes friends just say 'hi' to each other by hurling each other through a plate glass window, right?"

He flinched back as Michael's right paw thundered through the space Nick's muzzle had just occupied. The bunny growled.

Nick's grin became a little more strained. "Okay; not friends. Got it. Uh..." Nick glanced around nervously. "So, hey, listen Michael, I just... I just want to know, before we get into this. Is this really, _really_ what you want to do? I mean, I'm a pretty easy-going fox..."

Michael stopped his advance upon Nick. The bunny narrowed his eyes at Nick and slowly raised a paw to point at the black eyes that adorned his face and the slightly swollen ear that Nick hadn't really noticed. "Judy." the bunny said quietly.

Nick winced a little in sympathy and took a tentative step forward as he turned on the charm. "I know, big guy; she plays rough sometimes. But we can have a nice chat with her, see if she'll apologise. Wouldn't you prefer to do that instead of beating on me?"

Michael tilted his head slightly and looked like he was thinking the proposition over. Nick made his smile even more friendly. _It's working!_

"Narp."

Nick's grin disappeared just as Michael back-pawed him across the face and sent him sprawling. The fox growled to himself and shook his head in an attempt to restore his equilibrium. His ears were ringing from the blow. Nick pushed himself up as Michael stomped closer, cracked his neck with a sharp tilt of his head, and let his fur bristle. "Okay... You wanna play rough? Say 'hello' to my little friends." Nick said, then flexed his paws so his claws unsheathed. Michael grinned and charged. Nick, a split second behind him but just as eager, did likewise.

* * *

Judy jogged along with her pistols outstretched in front of her and she tracked them across every angle as she anticipated the attack she knew was coming.

Around her, the Bushel Fields officers moved up and checked their corners and sight-lines as professionally as any well-drilled team could possibly have been expected to. The aisles were seemingly deserted but the group moved as one. Andy Cartwright, wielding a shotgun that matched the one carried by Andy Wainwright, reached the end of the chiller aisle and sidled up against a display rack stacked with jars of sauce. The other officers lined up behind him, Judy taking her own spot as third in line.

Andy Cartwright leaned out of cover slightly, casting a careful glance towards the nearby doors that led to the back rooms and Renner's office. The route ahead took them past the delicatessen counter, a large array of artistically-chopped and prepared vegetables and sliced, raw fish...

Currently with two wolves behind it who were brandishing knives. Knives that were almost identical to the large one spinning end over end and coming straight for his face.

* * *

Judy flinched as the foremost Andy fell back from around the corner with a scream as the glass jars beside his face shattered and a heavy-bladed knife clattered to the tiled floor. Wainwright screamed Andy's name and ran out of the aisle blindly, then levelled his shotgun at the deli counter and fired off four shots.

"It's alright, Andy." Cartwright said loudly over the roars of the shotgun, "It's just bolognese!"

Wainwright fell back into cover as another knife, tossed over-arm, flipped towards him. Judy breathed a sigh of relief, then took her turn at attempting to suppress the wolves.

Judy hoped Nick was having more luck.

* * *

Nick was bleeding from his nose, his tie had been ripped free and his shirt was torn in three places. Michael's left eye was almost completely swollen shut, blood dribbled freely from the corner of his mouth, and his uniform shirt was in tatters from the multiple claw-marks that ran in parallel down it. Both panted heavily as they came together again; Nick ducked a swipe from Michael's left paw and jumped. He landed on Michael's back and quickly wrapped his arms around Michael's neck in a poor attempt at a sleeper-hold. Michael responded to the attack by throwing himself backwards and crushing Nick into a shelf full of cereal boxes, then bent at the waist and charged forwards at a shelf full of jams and preserves.

Nick pulled back hard and tried to shift his weight, which caused Michael to stand a little higher and abort his headlong rush into the small jars. Nick swiped one of the small pots up and brought it down hard onto Michael's skull.

The giant rabbit didn't really seem to notice.

* * *

Judy kept up a steady rate of fire, her volleys added to those of the other officers to try and suppress the two butcher-wolves. It was an almost complete stand-off at this point, knives and sharp implements being launched over the plexiglass sneeze-guard by the wolves keeping the officers at bay while the bullets and buckshot kept the wolves ducked in cover. Something needed to change in order to tip the balance, or this was going to come down to nothing but simple logistics.

Judy had the bad feeling that the wolves had more knives behind their counter than the police officers with her had ammunition.

* * *

Michael managed to grasp a pawfull of Nick's shirt and _pulled_. Nick, still holding on as best he could, managed to do nothing to prevent himself being thrown from his perch atop Michael's shoulders and landed with a pain-filled yelp in the next aisle over by the frozen vegetables and ready-meals. Nick scrabbled to his feet as Michael took the long way around and, in a plan born of desperation, charged at the giant rabbit one final time. Michael swung for him once again and Nick ducked, still running at full speed, and attempted to do something he had only seen Judy manage before; he ran, took two steps _up_ the front fascia of the chiller unit behind Michael, and _jumped_.

Nick grabbed Michael's head with both forepaws and held on tight. His body weight carried him like a pendulum and the odd angle of his grab caused Michael to start spinning.

The large bunny, off-balance, fought against momentum but couldn't gain enough purchase to stop the involuntary movement. Nick held on tighter as Michael staggered slightly, gravity slowly eking out the victory, cocked his back legs on the small of Michael's back and _pushed_. Michael overbalanced fully and he made a final mistake; he tried to gain additional purchase on the tiled floor by using the stubby, blunted claws attached to his toes.

Michael's claws skittered over the floor and he toppled backwards. Nick let go as the giant bunny fell and landed heavily on the tiled floor; the back of Michael's knees struck the low rim of an open chest freezer full of frozen vegetables and he fell in. His head struck the opposite side of the freezer and the bunny passed out immediately.

Nick groaned as he pushed himself to his feet and staggered slightly as he tried to balance properly. He leant heavily on the side of the freezer that Michael now occupied and panted for breath. The sounds of gunfire and clanging steel could be heard from a few aisles over, but Nick knew he had something to finish before he could join his partner in taking down whatever resistance was being offered, and then Renner.

Nick plucked his aviators from a pouch on his belt and settled them on his muzzle. He blinked hard then fixed Michael with a cocky look and a smirk. "Cool off. No! No, even better. 'Ice playing with you. No, how about; Chill out, Michael. Yeah... 'Chill out Michael'. Heh."

Nick, still slightly off-kilter, began his walk towards the sounds of gunfire.

Nick ran back and skidded to a halt beside Michael's unconscious body. "Freeze!" he said, then laughed. "Ahh, I crack me up. Sorry, big guy; Doctor Nick is prescribing you a brand new fashion accessory. I am _not_ playing ring-a-rosy with you again."

Nick took a pair of pawcuffs from his belt and clicked them shut around Michael's wrists, then took a few zip ties and looped them through a few parts of the chest freezer's frame, a shelf unit and the pawcuffs. He doubled, then tripled them. "There we go; perfect. Well, Michael, I gotta shoot, but remember... Stay frosty!"

Nick pulled his pistols from their holsters and strutted away with a huge, toothy grin on his face.

* * *

Judy kept up her steadily-slowing rate of fire against the wolves as she tried to conserve ammunition. Her ears perked slightly as she heard the familiar sound of Nick's claws clacking against the tiles as he ran towards her and chuckled as he dropped to his knees and skidded to a halt beside her. "Hey, Carrots. Miss me?" he said with a grin and winked at her over his sunglasses.

"I've pined for you since you we parted so unexpectedly." Judy said in a deadpan monotone, despite the smile on her face. "How's Michael?"

Nick's grin became mischievous. "I left him in a freezer."

Judy groaned. "You said 'cool off', didn't you?"

Nick's smile grew wider and showed off every single one of his teeth. "Eeyup."

"Exactly how many puns did you reel off at him?"

"Including the obligatory 'cool off'? Five."

Judy dropped back into cover as her pistols ran dry and began to reload. "You are incorrigable."

"Why thank you, Fluff. Have you cracked out any good one-liners?"

Judy shook her head then paused and began to giggle. "Actually, I did. You missed it... it was last night; Michael attacked me in my room at the hotel and I shouted 'Give peace a chance' then smashed my Spathiphyllum Cochlearispathum over his head."

Nick raised an eyebrow in question, then the other joined it as the sound of one of the Andys' laughing hysterically came from the gunline.

"Uh... why is that funny?" Nick asked.

The laughing Andy, covered in some lumpy red goop, glanced back at Nick with a wide grin. "That plant's called a _Peace Lily_ , Wilde!"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"My dad sells apples." the tomato-spattered Andy replied.

"And raspberries." chimed in the other.

Nick nodded to himself. "I suppose that's at least a start, Carrots. What's the situation here, anyway?"

Portillo ducked back into cover to reload. "Two puppies and a _truckload_ of cutlery!"

"If anyone's got any ideas, now's the time!" Doris said as she stood up and took Portillo's place. "I'm nearly out."

"Judy, did you try howling?" Nick asked.

"Yes. They told me I suck."

Nick risked a glance around the corner at the counter the wolves were cowering behind. Two wolves, lots of cutlery, and a sturdy-looking deli counter in front of them that was solidly-

 _Not_ attached directly to the floor. Nick looked around and spotted exactly what he needed at the end of their aisle. "Hey Danny, come with me. The rest of you, keep those wolves ducking then fall back by fire and manoeuvre to our position."

Judy followed Nick's gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Surely, you can _not_ be serious right now."

"I'm as serious as a _cart_ -attack, Carrots." Nick said, which earned a groan from Judy. He grabbed Portillo's shirt sleeve and began running towards a row of shopping carts, then paused and turned back. "And don't call me Shirley!"

The sound of Nick's maniacal cackle joined the staccato reports of the police officers' firearms.

* * *

The wolves behind the counter laid in wait; the gunfire had stopped a few moments ago which meant either the police laying siege to their deli had given up or ran out of ammunition. They both held knives ready, prepared to toss them as they had most of their other sharps in the last few minutes. It was all for the greater good.

An odd noise made the pair's ears stand to attention. They rose as one to look over the edge of their counter-top, through the clear sneeze-guard, and froze. The officers had used batons and pawcuffs to assemble a crude battering ram out of a set of shopping carts, and were currently charging at full speed down the aisle directly towards them, howling and whooping as they came.

The pantheress in the group was riding the carts, her feet resting on the little built-in wine bottle racks, and opened fire with an automatic rifle. The wolves ducked down for cover and whined in fear. Before they could move, the cart-ram crashed into the wheeled chiller counter they were hiding behind and trapped them beneath it.

* * *

The officers cheered and slapped each others' shoulders at the triumph. Nick slumped slightly and put his paws on his knees to try and catch his breath. The group froze, however, as a high-pitched scream started nearby and grew louder.

The gazelle shop assistant ran around the corner, a box-cutter drawn and the blade extended to it's full length. She sprinted as fast as she could at Nick, her scream unwavering. Judy pulled a pistol and pulled the trigger; the hammer struck an empty chamber and her eyes widened in horror. There wasn't any time.

Doris Early grabbed a nearby can of soup and threw it hard. The small can smashed into the gazelle's muzzle with impressive force, enough to make the shop assistant's legs fly out from under her and fall to the ground as her forward momentum was countered. The screaming stopped, overtaken by a low moan of pain.

The other officers were silent for a moment, until clean-Andy spoke up. "Nice one, Doris."

The pantheress turned back to him and winked. "Nothin' like a bit of fem-on-fem!" she said and started to giggle.

Judy put her face in her paws. "Nick; your bad habits are spreading."

Nick smiled past the panted breaths he was taking. "I was... occupied. Someone... had to."

"Well isn't that just _super_." Judy said, then froze. "Oh no."

Nick was smirking again. " _Soup_ -er, Hopps! Looks like I'm rubbing off on-Ow!"

The pineapple that had just interrupted Nick had been thrown by one of the other store assistants and was swiftly joined by tomatoes, fruits and produce that was long past sell-by date. Judy dodged a mango and ducked underneath a kiwi. "Danny, can you and the others handle this? We've got an appointment with the Manager."

Danny Portillo warded off an unhealthy-looking bunch of carrots and smiled widely at her. "You've got it, Judy!" he said, then turned and charged at the attackers with the other officers hot on his heels.

* * *

Nick's foot crashed into the door to Simon Renner's office and the fragile wood splinted as the lock burst free. Judy ran in before him with both pistols drawn and ready and he followed a moment behind; the room was empty. Nick noticed the window was slightly ajar and he crossed the room in a few short steps. He looked out and felt Hopps jump up beside him, the two of them able to share the view of Renner as he ran from the store and climbed into one of the Bushel Fields police cruisers. The car's tyres screeched as it pulled away and Nick's eyes narrowed. "We need to get down there, Carrots."

Judy pointed below the window. "Dumpster?"

Nick grinned. "Dumpster." He pushed the window open wider and clambered up onto the sill. "We'll head them off in town... I don't have a cruiser, though, so we'll have to be quick. Hey Carrots; I think I'm falling for you." he said, then jumped. Judy rolled her eyes, then leapt through the window in a single bound.

* * *

Judy was extremely thankful that she had left Lyle and Saxon to corral the wounded townsfolk of Bushel Fields; Tusker's cruiser roared through the central square with reckless abandon as he tried to evade her and Nick. She ran and fired her pistols, Nick doing likewise, and she growled in frustration as it seemed like the Chief and Renner would escape.

Then she saw it. It was beautiful; a gift from the gods themselves... or at least, a gift from Snarlof and Fangmeyer who were stood next to it and were watching the unfolding gunfight-slash-car-chase with wide eyes. 'It' was a modern Zootopia Precinct One cruiser, with fuel injection, bull bars and a set of all-terrain tyres that were almost as big as she was. Judy ran straight for it, the open window practically an invitation wrapped in a little purple bow for her. She jumped and, in one smooth arc, passed through the open window of the large inner city police cruiser. Nick joined her a second later, the keys in his paw somehow; she snatched them from him, hit the ignition and, after buckling up for safety, slammed her feet down in a practised and quick left-right that sent the engine roaring and the tyres squealing. She peeled out of the square with a loud whoop of joy as Nick flicked the switch that made the lights spin and the siren wail.

* * *

Snarlof hadn't moved since the shooting began. Neither had Fangmeyer. Whatever they had expected when Bogo sent them out this way, it hadn't been this. The polar bear didn't say a word as he reached slowly into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Fangmeyer noticed the movement and turned to face him.

"Snarlof... What... I mean- just... what?"

Snarlof raised a huge paw and held up his index digit in a 'wait' gesture. His claw tapped a single speed-dial on the screen of his phone and he held it up to his ear.

"Chief; Snarlof here. Me and Fangmeyer were just robbed... Yeah... Yeah... Hopps and Wilde. Oh, it's not _that_ bad... couple of bullet holes and such. Think I saw a pair of officers dragging bodies around just before we pulled up, but it's kinda quiet now... Nice, actually. Picturesque. Has this really nice rustic feel, y'know? ...Hang on, I'll ask."

Snarlof turned to Fangmeyer. "Hey, Tim, how many wagons d'you think we'll need?"

Fangmeyer's mouth worked for a moment like he was trying to chew a toffee, then he gave up and simply spread his arms as wide as he could.

Snarlof nodded. "Yeah, so, Fangmeyer thinks we need all of 'em. Yeah... Uh-huh... Okay. Thanks, Chief."

The polar bear took the phone from next to his head and clicked the screen again, then slipped it into his pocket. He looked to Fangmeyer and gave the shell-shocked wolf a wry grin. "So, Bogo already mobilised everyone about four hours ago. He told us to sit tight and guard the area... and there's apparently a bar here."

Fangmeyer nodded. "Sounds... sounds great, Karl. Let's just go. I'm too old for this."


	15. The End of All Things

The peace and quiet of the country on that summery Wednesday morning was a fleeting thing. The pained, growling-whine of the Bushel Fields' police cruiser's older engine lingered in the air, only to be overridden by the deeper roar of the Zootopia Central cruiser that raced along behind it. As if this wasn't enough, the wailing of the ZPD cruiser's siren and occasional gunshots punctuated the high speed chase along the narrow country roads.

William Tusker's cloven hooves gripped the steering wheel tightly and he glanced nervously into the rear-view mirror. His passenger, Simon Renner, was twisted in his seat and snapped off bullets at their pursuers to dissuade them... it wasn't working.

Tusker grabbed the gear-shift and pulled back as he tapped the clutch and then floored the accelerator. The engine, already whining, began to scream in protest. The cruiser began to pull away as it's speed increased... Tusker hoped it would be enough.

* * *

Judith Hopps' furred paws flexed upon the steering wheel of her _acquired_ cruiser and she bared her teeth in a predatory grin. Her passenger, Nicholas Wilde, held a pistol out of the window on his side of the vehicle and fired back at the fleeing NWA members. The chief had down-shifted in order to add that little extra burst of speed but he would have to upshift again soon or he would run the risk of the engine burning out. Judy pressed a little harder on the gas and felt the hulking cruiser almost sink a little lower on it's suspension as the turbo kicked in; the small device was a recent addition to the ZPD cruisers and allowed a little more air into the combustion chambers of the engine. The result, of course, being more speed.

And one very happy adrenaline-junkie bunny.

* * *

Roads made of tarmac gave way to those made of stones and dirt as the chase continued, the lesser-travelled routes out of Bushel Fields' main locale being less maintained. The cars skidded slightly when, in corners and slight adjustments, the soft earth beneath their wheels was torn asunder and propelled backwards as a wake of dust and gravel.

Renner sat back into his seat and shook his head to clear some of the dust from his fur. His pistol, once again, had been emptied as he fired at his son and that _worthless_ sack of fur that dared to even think she could confront him. A new magazine for the weapon was slammed home and Renner cocked the slide back, ready to fire once more.

He saw, almost at the same time as Tusker did and far too late, the sharp turn ahead and the small sign next to it that 'welcomed' them to Peck Fields, just beyond the rise... the rodent equivalent of Bushel Fields. Renner howled in defiance as their cruiser smashed the sign to splinters and tipped back a few degrees as the ground rose up. The wheels of their cruiser left terra firma and span madly as the car became fully airborne and soared over the miniature houses and stores that were an almost exact scale replica of the village the two NWA leaders had called home all these long years.

Renner quite regretted not wearing a seatbelt when the car landed with a screech of tearing and warping metal on the opposite side of the much-smaller village and his head slammed into the dashboard.

* * *

Nick had seen the upcoming turn and warned Judy some moments before, long enough to ease off the gas and take the turn without their cruiser taking a brief and entirely unsuccessful stint as an aircraft. Judy slewed the car through the bend and drove around the tiny houses of Peck Fields before finally coming to a halt next to the crashed cruiser she had pursued for miles.

Nick leapt from the car and levelled his pistols as he ran forwards to confront Renner and Tusker. His paws sent gravel skittering as he ran and he pointedly ignored the dozens of stares upon him from the miniscule residents of the tiny township. He came level with the door of the cruiser and narrowed his eyes; Tusker was still strapped into the driver's seat, the remnants of an airbag that had deployed draped across his lap and face. It appeared his single remaining tusk had struck the fabric at the point of impact and burst it, which had left Tusker completely free to smash his face into the steering wheel and knock himself unconscious. Of Renner, however, there was no sign...

"Nick!" Judy screamed, and Nick stepped back to turn and face her. He froze, however, when he felt the slightly-warm kiss of a gun muzzle being pressed into his temple and a furred forearm slung itself around his throat a moment later.

"You are a great disappointment, Piberius." Renner said from somewhere over Nick's right shoulder. Nick fought a growl and allowed himself to be moved by the other fox, being turned to face Judy and put his own body between her guns and his father.

"Well, dad, maybe if we'd played ball a little more..." Nick said with a forced grin.

"Give it up, Renner." Judy said. She held a single pistol, the other still in it's holster, and aimed it carefully with both paws on the grip. Nick was rather concerned to see that the barrel wavered.

"Stay back, _lunchtime_ , or the ginger-nut gets it." Renner said with a growl.

Nick tried to turn his head. "Seriously? We've got the same colour of fur. That hurts. I always thought of it as a nice mix between 'Terracotta' and 'Moroccan Flame'-"

The hammer of Renner's pistol was pulled back with an ominous click. "Shut. Up."

"Shutting up, sir."

"You can't win this, Simon." Judy said. Nick watched as the small bunny stepped closer. "It's only us here at the moment but soon the back-up I called in from Zootopia will get here, and then where will you go?"

"You're going to let me get into that car and drive off into the sunset, you little _runt_. I'll be keeping _junior_ here as insurance."

"How can I be a 'junior' if our names are completely different?"

"Shut _UP_ , Piberius!"

Nick saw Judy roll her eyes. "Now I know where he gets it from. Renner, you're not going anywhere."

Renner smiled dangerously. "I may not be... but you're going somewhere."

Judy smirked. "Oh yeah? Where?"

"Hell."

* * *

Nick felt the muzzle of Renner's gun move from his head and saw it when it came into his peripheral vision; Renner was going to kill his partner. Nick stamped his foot down onto Renner's and, when the older fox flinched, he bit down hard on the arm that had held him still.

Nick tasted blood and meat. Renner screamed in pain. The gun fired.

* * *

A small puff of dirt next to Judy's foot made her blink. Nick was far too close to Renner to risk a shot and the two foxes were now swiping their claws at one another in a desperate paw-fight. Nick was capable but Renner had the advantage of experience. Judy knew what she had to do, even though every instinct she had screamed at her not to.

She threw away her pistols and started to run right at the two foxes.

* * *

"You!" Renner yelled as his balled fist slammed hard into Nick's face. Nick stumbled back, dazed from the blow, and Renner followed it up.

"Little!" was the next word in the sentence, accompanied by a vicious backpaw that made Nick see stars.

"Rutter!" was the final word, and was delivered with a heavy double-pawed blow to the back of Nick's head that left him sprawled upon the floor. He was level with the worried onlookers from Peck Fields, and their tiny expressions of horror at the violent scene playing out in the middle of their homes was the last thing he saw as he slipped into the sweet embrace of sleep.

Simon Renner raised a foot above his defeated son and prepared to stamp down on the worthless little mutt's neck when he heard the rapid thump-thumping of little feet running towards him. He looked towards the source of the noise and was rewarded with the sight of the tiny grey bunny who had helped his son destroy the perfect utopian ideal sprinting at him.

The bunny pounced and Simon dived aside; three feet of flying rabbit soared past harmlessly and landed with a roll. He hunched over slightly and flexed his claws. _This_ , he thought, _was going to be very easy_.

* * *

Judy Hopps used the momentum of her roll to slap her feet onto the ground and propel herself up. She swivelled her hips and, when her feet next touched the earth, she was facing Simon Renner and was standing almost to attention. The fox stood in a threat-posture, his arms wide to cut off her escape routes and his claws extended and ready to disembowel her at the smallest opportunity. His teeth glinted in the sunshine, and a low growl marred his every breath.

Judy bared her teeth in a far less impressive display. She turned her left foot outwards and slid her right forwards in a semi-circular motion. Her paws rolled up in line with her body then turned over one another, coming to rest in front of her with pads-down and with her own little claws extended.

This was going to be _very_ easy. "Hey Renner," she said with a quick nod towards Nick's prostrate body. "Leave the little guy alone and pick on someone your own size."

Renner gave a grunt of amusement. "Is that meant to _concern_ me, rabbit? I'm bigger than you; I'm higher in the food chain. And you think you stand a chance? You and your little whatever-that-is?" he said with a wave of his paw at her stance. "It's almost time for lunch. And mother always did say I shouldn't play with my food... _too_ much."

"I guess we should stop playing then, Simon. Gonna yip all day or are you going to come get what's coming to you?"

"With the greatest of pleasure."

Renner took a large step forward and swiped a paw down at Judy's face. Judy darted forward within Renner's reach, jumped and slammed her elbows into his sternum. Her feet touched the floor again and she kicked out sideways to her right; her foot struck Renner in the side of his left knee and knocked him off-balance. He swiped his paws towards his chest as he fell and Judy somersaulted forward between the collapsing archway of his legs to avoid them. She stood, turned on her heels and brought her paws forward into the same position she had started in.

Renner, now a lump of fur on the floor, roared and pushed himself to his feet; he limped slightly on his left leg. "I'm going to tear you limb from limb for that!" he said.

"If you can touch me. Did you know I once beat up a rhino?"

Renner barked as he lunged forward at Judy, claws-first. Judy ducked and hopped forward in a move that brought her almost muzzle-to-muzzle with her opponent. She kicked her left leg up and into Renner's chin and his mouth snapped shut with a painful click as his teeth came together. She hopped and performed a spin-kick that slapped Renner in the whiskers and overbalanced him completely. The fox, on all fours, toppled and hit the ground. His clawed feet came up and made to tear into her but Judy jumped up and flipped; a solid overhead axe-kick caught Renner in soft flesh of his midsection, below the ribs, and knocked the air from his lungs. Judy kicked up and flipped away as his paws grasped at his stomach reflexively. She had a moment of respite before Renner lunged forward with his _mouth_ of all things, his jaws wide to catch her. Judy hopped back and swiped her feet, sending a little cloud of dirt into his open maw. Renner choked and she darted forward, past the dangers of his teeth and paws and dropped her full weight, elbow-first, on his carotid artery.

Simon Renner's eyes bulged and he gave a choked gurgle of pain before he passed out from the sudden spike in his blood pressure.

* * *

Judy stepped away from Renner's body and shook herself off. She looked towards Nick and was happy to see him stir. "Nick!"

Nick groaned. "Five more minutes."

Judy ran to her partner and helped him roll over. Behind her the diminutive residents of Peck Fields cried and cheered for her but she barely noticed. "Nick, we won! I kicked his _ass_!"

Nick winced. "I'm happy for you, but please... I hurt."

Judy raised both paws in the air and whooped loudly in celebration; her cheers joined those of the mice and rodent spectators. Nick managed a weak grin.

Above the village, a helicopter branded in the colours of Precinct One flew by, and heralded the arrival of the cavalry.

* * *

Nick and Judy sat on a low wall with blankets about their shoulders. What seemed like the full fleet of cruisers and SWAT vans from Precinct One littered the streets around them in the square, and at least half a dozen ambulances sat with the injured NWA members handcuffed to stretchers inside.

Bogo, it seemed, had deemed Judy's warning and subsequent ignoring of him to authorise the full mobilisation of the force at his disposal. The large buffalo stood by the fountain in the square and bellowed orders to anyone who wasn't doing their jobs as efficiently as he believed they could be.

Nick sighed. "Y'know, Carrots," he said, "we really need to stop running into stuff like this."

Judy gave an amused huff. "Seriously, Nick? I don't remember signing up to star in an action movie. This was... well. This was way beyond anything I could have imagined."

"I know... I know."

The pair sat in relative silence for a few moments before Nick broke the silence again.

"So to recap; we get sent on holiday, uncovered a seething hotbed of corruption, murder and cult activity, found my deadbeat dad, _beat up_ said deadbeat dad..."

"And you are never going on holiday again!" Bogo yelled from the fountain.

Judy started to giggle. "You know, Nick, we do still have to sort out all the pa-"

"Don't you dare say it. Not yet. Just let me have a little while longer before reality kicks back in."

"Paper-"

"Don't do it."

"... Pap-"

"I'm warning you."

Judy looked Nick up and down. "What're you going to do, exactly, Nick; bleed on me?"

"Madam, I will have you know that I earned my injuries in a daring attempt to stop a murderer from shooting a police officer."

"Who I beat up with my bare paws after you got knocked out."

"Hence 'attempt'. And I'd say it worked; you aren't shot, are you?"

"Not _this_ time."

"Then I call it a win."

"We can't call it a win until we finish... Paperwork."

Nick groaned heavily and let himself slip backwards off the low stone wall and landed with a thud on the soft grass behind it.

* * *

The sound of pens scritching their way across multiple pieces of paper in the Bushel Fields police station was broken by small chuckles. The local officers, Nick and Judy were all seated at their desks and, while they filled paperwork, were being entertained by the tale of Nick's valiant efforts as a hostage in the brief standoff outside of Peck Fields.

"So Nick's being held there by Renner; a gun is pressed to his head and Renner looked _peeved_..." Judy said with a laugh. "and he said 'stay back, lunchtime, or the ginger-nut gets it!'... like I was just some sort of microwave meal or something."

"You're more of a snack-size, Carrots," Nick said with a smirk. "And I couldn't let the ginger thing go so I said 'We're the same colour, moron!'... I wish I could've seen the look on his face."

The officers laughed hard. "It was a picture, Nick, but not as good as yours. If I hadn't been holding my gun I'd've pulled my phone out and you'd be plastered _all_ over the station."

"You monster." Nick said and put a paw over his chest. "That gets me right here, Carrots."

Judy stood from her chair and stretched her paws above her head. "And _I_ am getting some coffee. We'll end up being here all night, I think. Anyone want one?"

"I'd kill for a cup." came a low voice from the corridor.

Judy froze and the other officers turned to face the intruder. Tom, the camera-watching stoat from the NWA office upstairs, stood in the doorway with a blunderbuss aimed squarely at Judy.

Judy raised her paws slowly. "Now, Tom, think this through. At the moment you've done nothing too wrong; we can settle this with words, not violence."

"I suppose you're right, Officer Hopps... we can solve this with words." Tom said with a manic grin. "The _greater good_!"

* * *

Nicholas Piberius Wilde had always heard mammals say that your life flashed before you when you were about to die. He'd also read a quote from a very smart ferret that stated it was true, just that the flash actually was your life.

He found he agreed with both. Time, of which he had precious little remaining if his impression was correct, moved far too quickly and yet he felt every single grain of sand move through the hourglass of his destiny. Nick pushed himself out of his chair as he had flashbacks to his youth, to the small kit he had been in his scout ranger uniform and the fear and the dread and the sadness and a thousand emotions besides. He tensed his legs as he ran his first con, dug his claws into the carpeted floor of the station as he gave Mr Big the skunk butt rug, and pounced as Judy hit 'play' on that carrot pen for the first time.

His life caught up with life at the exact moment the blunderbuss roared and the buckshot caught him in his chest. Nick felt pain that already started to fade as his world turned dark; he felt sorrow at this, the end of all things. He felt anger that he had been cheated of time. He felt relief that the little grey bunny who had just kicked a trashcan over him and into Tom's face hadn't been hit.

He watched through his fading vision as Judy leapt over his body and delivered a fly-kick to the stoat's chest. He smiled in spite of the pain as the treacherous mammal fell backwards and through the open door of the evidence room.

He felt dismay in his final moments of lucidity as Tom fell past the sea-mine he and Judy had seized from old Arthur Webley; the rusted old weapon had been caught on Tom's tweed jacket and been pulled over... and triggered.

Nick's world disappeared in a roar of explosion and a billowing flame.

* * *

Six months later, Judy Hopps stepped through the front doors of Precinct One and waved to Benjamin Clawhauser. The heavy-set cheetah squealed in delight at the sight of her and, more specifically, the new rank-pins attached to the collar of her uniform.

"Oh-em-goodness; look at you! You look as good as new! It's been so boring around here without you and- and..."

Judy gave a soft smile as she approached the front desk. "It's okay, Ben... you can say his name. I'm past it now, I think."

"Judy, how can you say that? He sacrificed himself for you!"

"Yeah, Hopps! I mean, come on; I took something like a thousand shots for you."

Judy rolled her eyes and glared at Nick Wilde, who had appeared from behind Clawhauser's desk and looked almost completely normal aside from his fur being a little shorter. Singed hair did tend to take a while to grow back, after all, and she'd had an easier time of it with being smaller. "Nick, you took _one_ shot for me. One. And somehow in doing so managed to ruin _another_ of my favourite shirts."

"Technically Tom set off the mine."

"But you getting shot _once_ made me kick him into it."

"It wasn't one, Carrots, it was buckshot!"

"It still only counts as one, Nick."

"Ju _dyyyy_..."

The two partners walked away from Clawhauser to the bullpen for the morning briefing, still arguing, and passed through the large doors. Benjamin Clawhauser smiled widely to himself and rested his chin on his paws.

Things just weren't _right_ without those two around to cause mayhem. And now they were back...

Benjamin Clawhauser smirked. "I think it's time I 'shipped' those two properly... all in the name of the _greater good_."

The intercom crackled and Bogo's voice came through loud and static-laden. _"_ _Clawhauser, stop being creepy, I can feel it from in here."_

Clawhauser winced and tapped a claw onto the transmit button. "Sorry, Chief..."

More static. _"Besides, I've got fifty bucks riding on the first date being two weeks from now."_

"Awwwwwww Chiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-"

* * *

Fin.

* * *

 _And there we go; Hot Fuzz is now complete. It's been a great little ride with you all, and it's been a lot of fun stretching my writing muscles once again. I will be continuing to write for Zootopia and I'll definitely be trying a few other ideas as time goes on._

 _I really hope you've enjoyed my work, and by all means leave a review or send me a PM if you feel like it. I'm more than pleased with what I've received already, so anything extra really is just gravy now._

 _There are a **lot** of references in all of the chapters, from not-so-subtle nods at Terry Pratchett and HR Giger to One Punch Man and South Park. Who knows if you've found all of them?_


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